Self-soothing and Be(com)ing a Potter

A short piece from on the road...

Photo by shraga kopstein on Unsplash

“The most beautiful thing a potter produces is … the potter.”

Matthew Fox

Our annual Q&A time was rather short-lived, with only three questions. It’s not too late: if you have a question about writing or publishing, please leave in the comment section, or send me an email alison@alisonacheson.com

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Years ago, I read a book about marriage/relationships by David Schnarch. It’s the only book I’ve read cover-to-cover on this subject, and the book included a chapter on self-soothing, and even death and loss—which I didn’t think I’d need until I did. A holistic book indeed.

The concept of “self-soothing” stuck with me not only as a relationship-principle, but as a way to work through troubled times on my own and—of course—included my writing life.

“I’m referring to our ability to validate our own perceptions, feelings, and self-worth, and soothe our own heartache and anxiety when the inevitable marital disappointments, frustrations, and misunderstandings occur.”

David Schnarch

Just exchange the phrase “writing-related” for “marital,” and this speaks. Writing has heartache and anxiety, disappointments and even misunderstandings. (I’m glad no one ever told me that writing would be this tough. But if they had, I’m not sure I would have listened or heard.)

I give a lot of space in the Unschool to the act and goal of publishing, but at times I feel a need to simply acknowledge this thing we do—of putting words to paper. As much as it means to me to hold a completed and published book in my hands, ultimately, it’s the process that nurtures me, not the product.

So much of post-writing is out of our control. Even the “support” network of having a dynamic writing group, an agent, or a trusted editor, seems to have so little to do with us. We might work towards these, have one or more over time, but so often these elements of writing life feel to hold a piece of sheer luck or serendipity.

As Amy pointed out here, not long ago, she holds on to her drafts in order to know that not only has she written, but she is a writer. A writing writer, thinking in words and stories. It’s the process that makes us human and creative and alive.

It’s an internal wrestle to bridge the pieces of product and process, one that almost every creative has to work through. Especially if we feel a need to eat and have a roof between us and the rain.

The self-soothing piece comes with that understanding. As much as we might try to “soothe” over the selling/publishing piece, if we’re not soothed by the process, it can feel meaningless.

The need to create is a human thing—it’s the human that’s stretching to be more, to feel more; it’s the piece that allows us to feel the sacred in our selves. Creating is active meditation.

Which is why when you’re a writer or painter or singer or dancer it doesn’t feel right not to be doing. (And explains the inexplicable grumpiness I feel at times of “no time” or not doing.)

When you are fully immersed in the process of writing, thoughts of publishing and “product” can’t slip through the cracks to take you out of that space. I find that when I’m writing regularly, the anxieties about publishing are substantially lessened, and at times even disappear.

“There exists a profound ‘purposelessness’ in all true art.”

Otto Rank

The word “purposelessness” grabs me—at first—when I read these words, but then I mulled over the word “profound,” too, as well as “true,” slowly putting together the whole. I let the words do their soothing thing…

“To live without a why, work without a why, love without a why.”

Meister Eckhart

And I remember:

“Play is always without a why.”

Matthew Fox

Letting go is soothing—always. To let go of “why”—consciously, before beginning writing time today—might be the most significant act.

When working and feeling the anxieties of either publishing or writing, are you aware of any self-soothing choices? What do you do? What do you not do?