The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

Internet Review of Books is putting together a Christmas gift list for readers and their request for suggestions set me to thinking about what books I would like to receive as well as give. And then I thought, "What books do I wish my loved ones would read."
I want my sons to read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.

Both sons have the hearts of artists and all of the frustrations and economic stresses that accompany such a leaning. I know what they feel, to some extent because they inherited this 'heart' from me. Where I got it we have no idea.

Most of my family are hard working people who can do the same job endlessly for decades. If I last four years at any one task (other than marriage and children) it is by a miracle. Traditional employment with bosses upon bosses treating me like a piece of the furniture and never wondering who I am or what I'm capable of wears me out -- heart and soul and sinew.

It is the time when I'm caught in a nine-to-five job when my mind dwells obsessively on the 'what ifs' and the unlived life that Pressfield depicts so well. "Late at night have you experienced a vision of the person you might become, the work you could accomplish, the realized being you were meant to be?"

He insists that the one thing that stands between the wannabe writer and the real writer is one thing: Resistance.

He writes: "Have you ever brought home a treadmill and let it gather dust int he attic? Ever quit a diet, a course of yoga, a meditation practice? ....Then you know what Resistance is."

And he speaks of various kinds of resistance, how to feed it and what it likes. There's a reason the Bible has the passage: "Fear is of the devil." Fear stops more people in their tracks than anything. Resistance feeds on fear, according to Pressfield. And explains the fear is of consequences that come from following one's heart.

"Fear of bankruptcy, fear of poverty, fear of insolvency.

Fear of groveling when we try to make it on our own, and of groveling when we give up and come crawling back to where we started.

Fear of being selfish, of being rotten wives or disloyal husands; fear of failing to support our families, of sacrificing their dreams for ours.

Fear of betraying our race, our 'hood, our homies.

Fear of failure.

Fear of being ridiculous.

Fear of throwing away the education, the training, the preparation that those we love have sacrificed so much for, that we ourselves have worked our butts off for...."

And the MASTER OF ALL FEARS:

Fear that we will succeed. And with this success we will move out of the comfortable niche, cut the ties and connections that make us a member of the 'tribe' or family where we know what to expect, who to trust, and how to survive and who will help us in that survival. All will be new and strange and foreign in this world of success.

So for a writer. It isn't the writing that is so hard, it is overcoming the resistance and the fear so that we can sit down and actually write.

Yes, definitely, this is a book I want my sons to read. But yet, part of me fears that if they read, if they go after their dreams -- I will lose them. But the artist in me knows that a new connection will grow and maybe if they succeed, there's still hope that I can find the life unlived and still give it a try.

Regain the wonder

Five days a week, I work in a library shelving books. It is the perfect job for observing people's behavior. One constant source of entertainment is the kids.

Most of them are naturally fearless and curious and ready to try anything. I've plucked two-year-olds from the upper shelves where they have climbed while their parents' backs were turned. They delve without hesitation into fantasy and think nothing extraordinary about dogs talking and cats wearing hats. They soak up new experiences like sponges and are constantly hungry to learn and do and try.

Nothing is beyond their realm of possibility. The books written for children draw upon that "what if" and "it could happen" and "why not" way of thinking.

When did we outgrow the wonder of this world? When did we lose that sense of adventure, that curiosity about everything around us? When did we learn to resist change rather than embrace it?

Steven Pressfield wrote in his book The War of Art that "Most of us have two lives. The life we live, and the unlived life within us. Between the two stands Resistance."

For me as a writer, one of the most difficult aspects of my work is to write. The physical act of putting butt in the seat, hands on the keyboard and mind to the task. Instead I will surf the Internet, answer emails, do the laundry....but I resist doing what will give me the most pleasure and yes, the most pain.

I have a couple of successful ways to overcome that resistance -- at least toward writing.

1. Give myself permission to write whatever I want for 20 minutes. Timed writings. I put my fingers on the keys, close my eyes and just start typing whatever comes into my head. I don't stop typing for that time period. I don't correct, I don't edit, I don't censor. Its freedom and ultimately freeing. And the best part, many times I have the nugget for an article or an essay hidden among the jibberish. I'm always amazed at where free thought takes me.

2. When all else fails and resistance has me by the throat. I turn to the children's department at the library and read. I usually begin with Click, Clack, Moo: Cows that Type by Doreen Cronin. A Dr. Seuss book frees my fearful spirit, as does anything by Shel Silverstein.

Recently while assisting the librarian with children's story time, she read my new favorite: Saturday Night at the Dinosaur Stomp by Carol Diggory Shields. Anyone who can rhyme those multi-syllabic names and describe those mighty lizard beasts dancing has my respect. And gratitude.

Because once I've forgotten about responsibilities and reality and immersed myself in the world of cows that type and dinosaurs that dance -- there's nothing stopping my creative.

Isaac Newton may have been right about "an object at rest stays at rest unless acted upon by another force." But I bet he didn't think of kid's literature as a 'force' to start the creativity ball rolling.

Next time you resist doing what you know you really need to do, want to do -- check out a kid's book. It is liberating.

Oh, and while you're at the library -- thank a librarian. They love it.