Today, I was improvising at the piano, sipping on iced tea and enjoying the view out the window, listening to the soft rhythm of the dishwasher in the distant kitchen. I happened upon a really pretty melody, and the music was so good that I did something I told myself I wouldn’t do until September 1: I wrote it down.
It’s just a thought so far. Just a little glimpse into a piece that could be. But it was enough to spark inspiration and joy and a feeling of intense longing that formed a lump in the back of my throat. It made me want to go back to writing so badly, even though it’s not a thought that’s attached to any of the ongoing projects I suspended for hiatus or any of the projects I know are waiting for me to start when I’m ready.
If I continue that little thought, this work would be for me. I wouldn’t get paid for it (at least, not for writing it… perhaps some performance or publication royalties later). In the past, that’s where this would have ended. I’m not getting paid for this music, so it’s not worth writing down.
But I want to do more writing for me. I think the instinct to stop myself from writing something compelling down because it’s not related to anything I’m currently being paid to write is a bad thing.
For all of the boundaries and policies I’m creating during hiatus for works I’m writing for other people, I haven’t been focusing at all on making my creative practice fluid enough that I allow myself no, that I encourage myself to write things for me if the inspiration is there. I want that freedom. I’m claiming that freedom.
I’m writing that little harp solo. While I’ve been writing this post, my brain has been working on it in the background. And then I’m going to send it to one of my dearest friends and repeat collaborators, who has yet to refuse a work from me and plays everything I send her beautifully.
And through the whole thing, I’m going to remind myself that writing for me is okay. I’m going to tell myself that writing for me is taking care of myself, because that’s what it is. I’m going to remind myself that stopping myself is an instinct that I need to break down, because it kills beautiful little ideas like this one before they even have a chance. And I’m going to keep telling myself that it is okay to keep moving forward.
I need it to be okay for me to write for me.