Yeah, that’s a lot of numbers up there. I could put a “squared” or “cubed” numeral at the top of that, too, because, well, at least in my case, that’s what it’s like to be a writer on any given day. True, there are the occasional days of flow, too, and boy do those feel great, but more often not, what happens is that I pose/wobble/flow in a single session. Just as Antero Garcia and I have written, the P/W/F cycle is recursive, not linear.
The good news is that no matter how many experiences I have under my belt as a writer, no matter how many times I may want to throw my writing utensil du jour across the room (this can get dangerous and expensive, BTW), I know what’s coming:
pose (I can do this! Write an AP entry, an article, a letter, an e-mail or blogpost, a chapter, a book) –> wobble (I’m definitely going to do this, and it makes my head hurt and my eyes twitch. A lot. Also, there’s a grumpiness factor, and a lot of staring at the screen) –> (with enough faith, trust, and pixie dust, this will happen, too.)
I love the phrase “write toward light” because it conveys for me both:
1, Light = flow (ergo it exists)
2. Light is a stance and a subject and an aspiration for me. I want my writing to matter and be about things that matter in ways that matter. I want to add to–which sometimes means pushing back against–the conversation, whatever it may be.
3. Light flows, absent of particles and debris. While I sometimes use my daily pages just to whine and vent so I can unclog those pipes, I do want to write toward something that flows clear and clean and true.
The phrase reminds me that the wobble is worth it, so the astronomical number keeps going and going and going. Hopefully, so do I.