Letter to the Leaves: There is No Try, Only Do

My Fellow Contributors,

While researching the life of Charles Bukowski for our Facebook profile's "People of Character," I came across a quote that he had etched into his grave stone.

"Don't Try"

I was troubled at first glance, but as I researched more into his life, I found it strangely gratifying.

I mean, think about it. To try is to accept the fact that you might fail. But to do is to resist failure and leave her in the rear view mirror.

This reminded me of a few lines spoken by the famous fictional philosopher, Yoda, in The Empire Strikes Back.

"No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try"

I remember hearing these same lines, from my sixth grade Drama and Performing Arts teacher. The point she was trying to convey is that "to try" implies to the receiver of such a phrase that the sender is not fully confident and wants to give a sense of possible failure whether conscious of this intention or not.

The power of language to guide and shape our subconscious is without doubt. When Bukowski says, "Don't Try," he means do not set out to write great poetry or the next classic novel. Let it flow out of you. When we try we put up dams which block the flow of words. But when we let the Muses take over and let them guide our pens we find that we have uncovered something in ourselves that is mystic and cosmic. Something that doesn't even feel like us.

It's as if Milton and Ginsberg and Burroughs and Kerouac and Shakespeare and James and Howells and Twain and Emerson and Whitman and Poe and Hemingway and Sartre and Sedgwick and Dickinson and Austin have met in your mind to form an unctuous orgy in your unconscious, leaving their love children to berth themselves onto your page.

I find it strangely gratify to relieve myself on the page without trying. To relax and release and let go.

Remember as writers we're are a mixture of mediums.

1st is the writer who uses words to create clay.

2nd is the reviser who molds and shapes the clay into a form.

3rd is the editor who bakes and hardens the form into a sculpture.

4th is the publisher who displays the sculpture and shares it with love.

5th is the viewer who looks, reads, and touches. Appreciating art in all its minute nuances which strike with each sight.

Greatness comes not from the writer but from the reviser and editor.

Remember, just do it, think later.

But if you feel like you've hit a wall laced with writer's block, then please:

CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING:

You have to live vicariously in order to write interestingly.

And On the Road was written by Kerouac when he was 29, after he had lived through the lines he let flow onto that long continuous script.


As Always

Undoubtedly Yours,
Bermuda