You Don’t Need Permission - A Reflection on NaNoWrimo & Creativity
Creativity as a means of daily routine isn’t easy. It doesn’t always feel accessible to tap into creative rhythms, especially when you can feel that all your time is being devoted to other equally, if not seemingly more important, things like work, family, and all of the little intricacies that come with them. In some ways, the act of creating feels like we need some sort of allowance from the world, our families, or even ourselves to begin this journey of engaging with creativity past the stages of inspiration and influence.
Writing, my primary mode of creativity, is both a passion and a dream of mine—to craft stories and worlds from the tips of my fingers or the ballpoint of my favorite pen. Yet, in the middle of craving to write so deeply, to tell the story I have within, as Dr. Maya Angelou would put it, feels inescapable and unattainable. I sit at a computer almost every day writing, not for myself but for others. And for a consecutive number of years, the idea of opening my novel left me almost immobilized. This immobility a result of a number of things: fear—that what I create won’t be good enough, that extricating parts of myself for this story is too much, and I don’t think I can always bear the weight of what comes from my characters. Sometimes it’s shame, that I’m not doing enough and that this gift, if not used well, will wane. This Nanowrimo, there were no goals no specified daily word count. I didn’t want the pressure.
What I craved instead was quiet nights amid the twinkling lights in my room where all I heard was the tap tap tapping of my keyboard and for the words to flow even if they didn’t make sense. I strove not to seek sensibility in these moments because if I tried to make sense or rationalize it, I would overthink it all. Instead, I sought the sensuality of a story. The pleasure of writing and forming word after word until it takes a shape of its own, beautiful and whole.
The challenge of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) calls for consecutive writing, sometimes with word counts well into the thousands, which has always seemed a bit too lofty for me. Between learning to manage my new consulting and WFH schedule, I didn’t write every single day of this month. Some days, I wrote poems instead as memorials for the loss of life that has happened in the last 50+ days in Gaza and the overall Middle East. I made space for words to be the salve I’ve always known them to be—giving myself permission to be as creative as God intended in the smallest of ways—to treat each day as an offering of the gifts I often forget to share outside of myself. It is as much communal and collective as it is singular, the act of creating, whether it be through building community, writing poems in the few and far in between, and bearing witness to the stories of humanity. Although the weeks did not pan out with the conclusion of a 50,000+ word novel, I hold a sense of peace over what I did write share and the little excerpts I held for myself.
As this month ends and December begins, I am in the middle of preparing for another 25 Days of Creativity Challenge in a new and unexplored medium, an auditory experience via the soon-to-launch Pen of the Beloved podcast. The pockets of writing the last 29 days have left me feeling inspired to start something I’ve wanted to do for some time.
The first episode will premiere on Friday, December 1, 2023.
If you’re unfamiliar with the 25 Days of Creative challenge, read my blog post, Reflecting on Creativity During a Pandemic | 25 Days of Creativity 2020. Pen of the Beloved exists to connect creativity for creators and nonprofits, showcasing how rhythms and routine of creativity empower us to live out our God-given potential in ways we often forfeit when we don’t believe in ourselves and the capacity we hold as makers, artists, and storytellers. This creative challenge has helped me establish discipline and seek out wonder in my own creative process, and doing this alongside other creators is an additional blessing that always leaves us better than before we began.
Over the years, I’ve watched invitees of this challenge blossom into their full creative selves, people who at one point would have said, “No, I’m not creative enough, or “I don’t make art.” And yet, every person who started this journey, whether for five days or the full 25, has discovered that creativity isn’t a respecter of persons. It’s a small inkling inside every individual who dares to see creativity a little differently, no matter the medium, the job, or the skill level.
I invite you this year to be a part of seeking wonder in creativity with 25 Days of Creativity, to challenge yourself to tap into your creative ability and see what comes of it.
If you want to receive the previous guided e-book 25 Days of Creativity: A Guide to Living Creatively. Sign up to receive a free copy.
