What my psychiatrist just taught me about personal growth
I was sitting in his office with my standard green tea latte from that chain place we all love (and hate). This is mostly because our conversations are either long winded and philosophical or engaging and tiring, there’s little in between, but I digress. When I told my long time doctor of my endeavors into authorship he laughed.
He laughed because he knew my ex. He knew I got married in Maui on a whim to a man I had been engaged to for 2 years (thanks COVID). He heard me talk about my interested in starting a creative small business and selling hand made items–I gave it up because there wasn’t enough potential for profit. (Ironically I have now become an author, the second job I actually pay to do.). My doctor has heard me talk about hiking the Appalachian trail and painting until 3 am. All those things he took in stride–when I decided to change my career for my mental health and then 2 years later changed it back the way it had been before, he didn’t flinch. I tell him I’m publishing a book series and he shook his head.
He was right, I hadn’t told him.
I hadn’t told my doctor who I trust probably more than any of the others–and chronic illness means I have doctors in spades–anything about my writing plans. That made me think, who else hadn’t I been honest with and no wonder everyone is surprised. I could wax poetic about the importance of variety or the beneficial effect learning new skills has on a PTSD-ravaged hippocampus, but really, I lied because I was afraid to share this with the world. Now, in order to share it with the world, I have to stop being afraid of it.
Even that, the topic of prior posts, is not the idea here. It’s what he said next.
“You’ve had a lot of living, you’ll be good at this because you have lived… a lot.”
He told me I have changed career goals, I work at a high stress job with some pretty life and death stakes like millions of other healthcare workers in the world. I have had relationships come and go. I have hiked and mountain biked and rucked my way over mountains (oh, yes, literally). I have had health scares and some pretty interesting coincidences save my actual life. I have lived, therefore I will be a good writer.
I see his logic. I have to say he’s probably right. You do need to take inspiration from your lived experience to translate your abstract stories into novels people will understand. You have to experience wins and losses–sometimes even wins that are actually losses–in order to write about characters doing the same metaphorical thing. Okay. I see it.
Then he said one more bit of wisdom I mean to share, dear reader. He said, “don’t quit your day job. It keeps you grounded in reality and it is where you will find inspiration for years and years.”
Don’t let your creativity take you too far from the beaten path. Don’t wander off into the woods and get lost in stories you’ve woven to keep from feeling lost in those same woods. Don’t give up the hard stuff in favor of a cotton candy journey of publishing books and writing idealistic blog posts. Keep as rooted in the world as you expect your characters to be. Don’t lose touch.
Try everything. Fail. Win. Write stories about it. No matter what happens? Stay human. It’s important.
For a girl addicted to imaginary worlds, impulsive creativity and wanderings, this is wise advice indeed.
Love and gratitude
