Ocean

There is no underestimating the role that personal confidence plays in a person’s ability to accomplish a goal. With confidence, the creative process moves so smoothly. Doubt, the wicked sum of low confidence, is the roadblock that many good writers struggle to overcome. What breeds confidence? Are some people naturally confident? Are there certain genetic factors that contribute to the varying levels of a person’s confidence, or is it strictly a result of environment.
There is a writer who has received awards for his pieces, had his name mentioned in Newspapers, written articles, been praised for his talent and creativity who sits in front of his laptop computer staring at the blinking prompt at the beginning of a blank page. What is the cause of his digression? There has certainly been positive reinforcement. But what goes on in his mind that causes him such doubt?
I met with this writer recently and posed these questions to him. I wanted to know why a person with such obvious gifts is filled with such self-doubt. He stated simply “The ocean.” I was perplexed at this answer. What did he mean? He said “when a person enters the Ocean, they can float on the surface, if properly skilled, they can swim, they can snorkel, surf, water ski and scuba dive. That last one is my favorite. You see when I began writing I was entering the Ocean. I explored the surface, had fun, toyed with style, form and the elasticity of words. Well, after awhile, the surface of the Ocean becomes boring; I wanted to see what was underneath. I dove down and became more serious about writing. Writing went from being just a hobby of mine to a possible career. Then I began to make plans of what I wanted to do when I established myself as a writer, what I was going to write, who and or what I was going to rebel against and who would read my words. I was swimming deeper into the Ocean. The aqua blue became darker. I obsessed more and the blacker the waters became. Now, all scuba divers know that the deeper you dive the more pressure is placed on your body. So as I maneuvered deeper into the murky darkness I felt the pressure. Gradually, the pressure increased. The strain was becoming unbearable. I turned to look toward the surface and lost the direction of up. I lost all direction. The pressure increased and turned into fear. I screamed to no one and was heard by my intended audience. The pressure was too much, and I caved in on myself.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. I just sat there, staring at my laptop screen reading over the words I had just written from the mouth of the imaginary writer who imploded in the ocean. The mind. I shut myself down. I constructed my own roadblock. I am the ocean. I am the darkness. I am the abyss.