My friend. I hope you'll consider reading the Roosevelt trilogy by Edmund Morris. Teddy Roosevelt was one of those men who showed me how to have a life, wife, and children all while writing. Yes your vanity may be crucified in this time and hopefully heaven tears open for you, illuminating the roads to Rome. For a man needs a mission and his wife and children are a great source of missions. The entire gospel is the unfolding mission of a child and his parents. It wraps up an entire generation. It establishes a kingdom that has no end. It alone could produce more works that the world could hold.
My hope for you is that your writing and living would become integrated. I don't believe you have become circular, you are far too young for this. But you have discovered volume. the kind of volume that requires compounding. The king of volume that breathes details into stories. I wonder how many times the Apostle John told the story of beating Peter to the empty tomb before it was canonized as some divinely inspired thing.
It is ok to feel the ways you have shared. You are experiencing the sifting of eternal and finite things. At times it feels like a furnace. Other times it is as natural as moulting where we find the old shell of our selfs has already been discarded in some past place. Keep writing. We love reading you. And you should write me if it ever strikes you to. I too should write you far more than I do. Keep writing.
Thank you for reading and the thoughtful note Steven. Reading your words is encouraging.
I've been interested in Roosevelt for a while but have yet to read a biography. If I remember correctly, his wife was actually a big part of his writing process and read over almost all his letters.
That is my hope too. Although I don't think this tension is unique. I've been reading about how many religious poets felt pulled between their devotion to poetry and their devotion to God. Gerard Manley Hopkins renounced poetry for a number of years, because he felt the intensity of his creative experience competed with the intensity of his religious experiences. George Herbert, similarly, was wary of the secular element at the heart of making art, some imaginative flair in the self that distracts us from real worship.
The understory of this essay is my journey coming to faith, and the new foundation I have to establish my writing on, no longer one of despair or self-immersion, perhaps.
"Maybe I'm scared of what parts of me writing indulges. Maybe they are not all good parts. I have grown less interested in the self, feeding the parts of me that want to feel unique or smart or whatever."
I relate hard to this! What healed me - or set me onto a healthier path with writing - was a writing group. It has become a safe space to share writing that I fear is pretentious, or muddled, or overconfident, or derivative. My writing friends see something genuine in it, admire some qualities in it.
Perhaps what is harder, and I'm still working on, is developing some patience with myself. That I am still myself even if I have been socialising and not pondering. That the useful neurosis (loved that point) of writing doesn't define me any more than my ability to paint, or hold a plank at the gym. It's all just "something I do". It all passes.
Wishing you luck figuring this stuff out, and letting out the struggles helps others feel less alone, so, thank you.
Every time I read something of yours I think, when Tommy writes a book, no matter what it’s about, I’m buying it.
I have a husband and two kids, and I adore them, just being with them, and also, I feel most myself or at peace or something—when alone, writing. And when I finish a writing session it always feels like a sigh of relief. A necessity.
Ha thank you Charlie, this made me smile. I'll let you know when I debut my children's Christmas story with Richard Scarry illustrations, the peak of all literature, in my opinion.
You are so good at describing the essence of a thing. That keeps me coming back to read. Thank you for sharing your thoughts even when they are difficult to put into words. You convey so much.
“Both deeply seized by existence and deeply alienated from it.” So beautifully put. I have heavily internalized what Stephen King wrote about writing - "It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room."
I try to have my cake and eat it too then by later trying to write about this life I'm living. Alas when the time comes, I'm once again faced with fomo, for missing the present.
So well captured and put into words! Loved starting my Saturday with your essay.
A great read! I'm often torn between writing for myself and writing for others. I think it's a very fine line because, as they say, the personal is the universal. Just as we find renowned writers' private musings deeply interesting and relatable, sometimes it's a writer's ability to frame the mundane as profound that makes it worth sharing.
So grateful for your generosity in sharing your exploration of your journey. It’s helpful to fellow “ones”, and I guess we are a motley crew of experiences! The depths of my own mind’s compulsion to find and try to write of patterns and meaning has often led me into dark places relationally and pulled me away from the ones I want to love well.
The main thing I know for sure is that I want to grow in obedience and closeness to God. This has meant, because of my personal circumstances, I have mostly felt I must lay aside the “hermit writer life” so I can practice the presence of others and faithfully fulfil my commitments. I am mostly peaceful about this. If I never get to publish anything, it’s ok, because I made choices and God is with me in my quest to love Him and my family.
I do need to write a few times a week, in the early hours when I can think clearly, to ease my mind of its swirling burden of thoughts. An email to an understanding friend, the beginnings of an exploratory article, a poem or a journal entry. Releasing my thoughts means I am more able to be present in my daily, gritty, life. Ah. It’s a wrinkly way.
Related to #6 hard. And this was perfect: “This is all to say, writing is complicated and confusing, not to mention hard. It often looms over me more than I stand above it, yet it's a love I can't and maybe won't ever be able to shake”
I often feel that there is a large portion of what I perceive as myself that only exists when I engage with writing or music. Despite the threat of vulnerability, vanity, ego, psychological hijacking, etc. that you’ve articulated so well, the words keep asking to be written, and you couldn’t ignore their pleas if you tried (and it seems like you have). For myself it’s hard not to perceive creative endeavors as self-indulgent but reflecting more, it may be one of the most effective ways to engage with your own humanity in my opinion. Sacrificial, as you put it, seems more accurate. Being that it seems impossible to have an original experience, every piece of art has its way of expressing something about what it’s like to be a person, in a way that doesn’t require you to adhere to the rules of communication that feel like they demand literal certainty. Creating lets us discover and witness the more confusing parts of ourselves and each other, and so making them a little bit easier to bear I think. Medicine for the unavoidable solitude of being stuck in your own brain
Perhaps artists are meant to be active observers. We are placed in situations where we perk up our ears toward unfamiliar sounds and interpret their meaning using idiosyncratic methods. Writing my thoughts helps me get clear about what I have experienced. Often I will start organizing my recollections and discover an insight that was unexpected.
A mentor once told me that mystics used to be hermits who would discover great insights while isolated from the world. In current times, mystics are meant to live among others and find universal truths while doing ordinary tasks. I found that thought to be comforting.
I actually thought this would go another way, not necessarily on the lack of time to live life, but how the pursuit to pen down your life often prevents you from fully being present. As a writer, I often leave a conversation thinking, “Shit. I can’t wait to go home and write about that experience,” rather than letting fully immersing myself in the experience.
My friend. I hope you'll consider reading the Roosevelt trilogy by Edmund Morris. Teddy Roosevelt was one of those men who showed me how to have a life, wife, and children all while writing. Yes your vanity may be crucified in this time and hopefully heaven tears open for you, illuminating the roads to Rome. For a man needs a mission and his wife and children are a great source of missions. The entire gospel is the unfolding mission of a child and his parents. It wraps up an entire generation. It establishes a kingdom that has no end. It alone could produce more works that the world could hold.
My hope for you is that your writing and living would become integrated. I don't believe you have become circular, you are far too young for this. But you have discovered volume. the kind of volume that requires compounding. The king of volume that breathes details into stories. I wonder how many times the Apostle John told the story of beating Peter to the empty tomb before it was canonized as some divinely inspired thing.
It is ok to feel the ways you have shared. You are experiencing the sifting of eternal and finite things. At times it feels like a furnace. Other times it is as natural as moulting where we find the old shell of our selfs has already been discarded in some past place. Keep writing. We love reading you. And you should write me if it ever strikes you to. I too should write you far more than I do. Keep writing.
Thank you for reading and the thoughtful note Steven. Reading your words is encouraging.
I've been interested in Roosevelt for a while but have yet to read a biography. If I remember correctly, his wife was actually a big part of his writing process and read over almost all his letters.
That is my hope too. Although I don't think this tension is unique. I've been reading about how many religious poets felt pulled between their devotion to poetry and their devotion to God. Gerard Manley Hopkins renounced poetry for a number of years, because he felt the intensity of his creative experience competed with the intensity of his religious experiences. George Herbert, similarly, was wary of the secular element at the heart of making art, some imaginative flair in the self that distracts us from real worship.
The understory of this essay is my journey coming to faith, and the new foundation I have to establish my writing on, no longer one of despair or self-immersion, perhaps.
I will write you soon.
Yes! We need a mission to form us and our writing🙏
"Maybe I'm scared of what parts of me writing indulges. Maybe they are not all good parts. I have grown less interested in the self, feeding the parts of me that want to feel unique or smart or whatever."
I relate hard to this! What healed me - or set me onto a healthier path with writing - was a writing group. It has become a safe space to share writing that I fear is pretentious, or muddled, or overconfident, or derivative. My writing friends see something genuine in it, admire some qualities in it.
Perhaps what is harder, and I'm still working on, is developing some patience with myself. That I am still myself even if I have been socialising and not pondering. That the useful neurosis (loved that point) of writing doesn't define me any more than my ability to paint, or hold a plank at the gym. It's all just "something I do". It all passes.
Wishing you luck figuring this stuff out, and letting out the struggles helps others feel less alone, so, thank you.
Thank you David, appreciate you reading & the beautiful reflection here
Tommy, the first thing I thought of when I finished this is “thank you for letting us in.”
Then I thought of Rumi’s The Guest House. “Every morning a new arrival…welcome and entertain them all…”
And then Ram Dass came to mind, when he described the thousands of deaths we experience in a lifetime and how we die into something larger.
Tommy, no matter how frequently or infrequently you write, it’s a profound contribution to your readers. I’m lucky to be one of them. 🙏
James, thank you for your words here. Funny enough, here's a line I cut out of this essay: "Every man, they say, has a man within him who must die."
Every time I read something of yours I think, when Tommy writes a book, no matter what it’s about, I’m buying it.
I have a husband and two kids, and I adore them, just being with them, and also, I feel most myself or at peace or something—when alone, writing. And when I finish a writing session it always feels like a sigh of relief. A necessity.
Ha thank you Charlie, this made me smile. I'll let you know when I debut my children's Christmas story with Richard Scarry illustrations, the peak of all literature, in my opinion.
Oh my gosh stop it. That’s a pre-order!
You are so good at describing the essence of a thing. That keeps me coming back to read. Thank you for sharing your thoughts even when they are difficult to put into words. You convey so much.
Thank you Belle (:
I appreciated reading your thoughts. I feel seen, as I often feel the same way.
Thank you Dawn (:
“Both deeply seized by existence and deeply alienated from it.” So beautifully put. I have heavily internalized what Stephen King wrote about writing - "It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room."
I try to have my cake and eat it too then by later trying to write about this life I'm living. Alas when the time comes, I'm once again faced with fomo, for missing the present.
So well captured and put into words! Loved starting my Saturday with your essay.
Thank you Parvathy (: that's a great quote by King
A great read! I'm often torn between writing for myself and writing for others. I think it's a very fine line because, as they say, the personal is the universal. Just as we find renowned writers' private musings deeply interesting and relatable, sometimes it's a writer's ability to frame the mundane as profound that makes it worth sharing.
Thanks Dylan (: for reading and such a beautiful reflection here
I loved your honesty in this. Really good.
Thanks Carina (: always lovely to hear from you
I think you will like Paul Kingsnorth's excellent book Savage Gods, which deals with a similar topic 🙏🏻
I'll check it out! Thanks Michaela (:
Dear Tommy,
So grateful for your generosity in sharing your exploration of your journey. It’s helpful to fellow “ones”, and I guess we are a motley crew of experiences! The depths of my own mind’s compulsion to find and try to write of patterns and meaning has often led me into dark places relationally and pulled me away from the ones I want to love well.
The main thing I know for sure is that I want to grow in obedience and closeness to God. This has meant, because of my personal circumstances, I have mostly felt I must lay aside the “hermit writer life” so I can practice the presence of others and faithfully fulfil my commitments. I am mostly peaceful about this. If I never get to publish anything, it’s ok, because I made choices and God is with me in my quest to love Him and my family.
I do need to write a few times a week, in the early hours when I can think clearly, to ease my mind of its swirling burden of thoughts. An email to an understanding friend, the beginnings of an exploratory article, a poem or a journal entry. Releasing my thoughts means I am more able to be present in my daily, gritty, life. Ah. It’s a wrinkly way.
Thank you Kathryn, for reading & such a beautiful reflection here (: Love it
Related to #6 hard. And this was perfect: “This is all to say, writing is complicated and confusing, not to mention hard. It often looms over me more than I stand above it, yet it's a love I can't and maybe won't ever be able to shake”
I often feel that there is a large portion of what I perceive as myself that only exists when I engage with writing or music. Despite the threat of vulnerability, vanity, ego, psychological hijacking, etc. that you’ve articulated so well, the words keep asking to be written, and you couldn’t ignore their pleas if you tried (and it seems like you have). For myself it’s hard not to perceive creative endeavors as self-indulgent but reflecting more, it may be one of the most effective ways to engage with your own humanity in my opinion. Sacrificial, as you put it, seems more accurate. Being that it seems impossible to have an original experience, every piece of art has its way of expressing something about what it’s like to be a person, in a way that doesn’t require you to adhere to the rules of communication that feel like they demand literal certainty. Creating lets us discover and witness the more confusing parts of ourselves and each other, and so making them a little bit easier to bear I think. Medicine for the unavoidable solitude of being stuck in your own brain
Perhaps artists are meant to be active observers. We are placed in situations where we perk up our ears toward unfamiliar sounds and interpret their meaning using idiosyncratic methods. Writing my thoughts helps me get clear about what I have experienced. Often I will start organizing my recollections and discover an insight that was unexpected.
A mentor once told me that mystics used to be hermits who would discover great insights while isolated from the world. In current times, mystics are meant to live among others and find universal truths while doing ordinary tasks. I found that thought to be comforting.
I actually thought this would go another way, not necessarily on the lack of time to live life, but how the pursuit to pen down your life often prevents you from fully being present. As a writer, I often leave a conversation thinking, “Shit. I can’t wait to go home and write about that experience,” rather than letting fully immersing myself in the experience.