I almost missed this blog post about Ang Lee. I happened to hop onto one of my Twitter accounts at the same time someone tweeted the link.
Some would call it Providence. Some would call it the Universe sending me a message. Some would say “Damn, how much time do you spend on Twitter anyway?”
I’ll take the first two, and to the persons asking the question, check yourself, homie.
What struck me most was the following statement after the writer dissected Ang Lee’s trajectory, including the six years he spent toiling, writing, and waiting for his chance:
If you’re an aspiring author, director, musician, startup founder, these long stretches of nothing are a huge reason why it’s important to pick something personally meaningful, something that you actually love to do. When external rewards and validation are nonexistent; when you suffer through bouts where of jealousy, wondering “How come so-and-so got signed/is successful/got a deal/etc?”; when every new development seems like a kick in the stomach, the love of what you are doing gives you something to hang onto.
I stopped reading right there to do two snaps in a z formation. Yes to all of that.
I picked up reading the article again and smiled at this:
On Sunday, as they announce “Life of Pi” as a contender in its 11 categories, make a note to remember it the next time you hit another rough patch — a series of rejections, a long stretch of nothing. Your achievements of tomorrow may be very well be planted with the seeds of today’s disappointments.
Once upon a time, when my writing dreams were crushed by graduate school and my own doubts, I would see new authors in my genre pop up and would get mad at myself. I was full of jealousy and envy. I hated my craft. I hated my work. I was tired and frustrated. I was big ball of negative energy. So I gave up the dream to focus on other things.
When I got the chance to come back to the thing I adored and the opportunity to follow my bliss, I realized that writing was my zone. I was happiest when I brushed the dirt off my shoulders, moved out of the jealousy, and focused on the right things, the only things that mattered: my creativity and my writing. I rediscovered the love of writing, the joy of holding a pencil, the happiness of creating a world on paper that keeps people on the edge and interested. I am at writer, always have been and always will be. I had to step away to re-embrace what I loved, and I am ever so grateful for the break and for the ability to come back to the thing I love.