Finding the Writer—Again

Imagination

My mind is suddenly full of ideas! Images, pictures, scenes flash through my imagination as I feel a sudden surge of inspiration—Eureka! It’s a story! But when I take my pen and an unused backside sheet of paper (or open my laptop and make a new Word document), I can’t manage to write a thing! The ink on my pen eventually hardens like coagulated blood. The cursor on the screen keeps on blinking until my laptop puts itself to sleep. It’s as if the Muse has come and gone out the door in an instant! What woe for a writer!

Writer's Block

The greatest obstacle that a writer faces is the formidable foe called Writer’s Block. From 2007 until recently, I have been at a standstill when it came to literary writing. It was as if I could no longer forge any short story nor squeeze something out of my once-upon-a-time wild and crazy imagination. I was somewhat discouraged also by the seeming “misplacement” of literary writing in mainstream Catholic religious sphere. My superiors in my former religious institute did not necessarily frown upon my affinity for literary writing but they didn’t encourage it either. I had entered the said congregation hoping that I could put my talent at the complete service of the Lord only to have it suppressed, albeit not that it was seemingly useless in a semi-contemplative environment, but because I had to humble myself and not put too much stock into my talents lest I became proud and puffed-up. Detachment from my talents and taking pride in what I did and could do was deemed of greater importance over using my talent as an instrument for the new evangelization. So I gave it up, the one thing that gave me joy—to truly write stories—so that I could go through with the rigid semi-contemplative religious formation. This was probably one of the reasons that I felt so interiorly out of place in my former religious institute. I felt like dying inside and I really had serious thoughts about leaving. (Of course, this wasn’t the only reason why I felt like leaving.)

One of our confessors who I treated as a temporary spiritual director told me that this could be a test from the Lord; that my intentions should be purified; that God must shine forth from what I write and not that I would be the one to shine instead. One thing that I have to be thankful for with my former religious institute is forming in me this exercise of examining my conscience and my intentions in doing things. I eventually gained this habit of introspection which allowed me to really see myself frankly and in the same way, allowed me to approach God in prayer without any pretensions at all. (Another thing I’ve learned is that excessive introspection can be unhealthy when one over-analyzes things. More on that in another article/essay.) So I continued to write in my journal or poems whenever I could. It was during the most trying times in my life within the friary that I was able to write very raw poetry. Though I knew there was really no chance for me to have these write-ups get published. I was aware that it would stay in my journals. I trusted knowing that as my talents “died” and got “buried” like seeds in the ground, eventually God would water it and allow it to grow, bloom and bear fruit according to His time. But when or how, I didn’t know…

FICTION IS FROM THE HEART

Jesus Used Fiction, Too

One providential day, as I was rummaging through the mini-library in our friary, I came upon a book entitled "We Sing While There's Voice Left" by Dom Hubert Van Zeller. Attracted by the title of the book, I decided to use it for my spiritual reading. Then I came on the chapter “Spiritual Writer’s Cramp.” The following words struck a chord in me:

“It must be remembered that the writing of books is often for this kind of author the only outlet. Where another may find parallel or complementary forms of self-expression in rearing a family, in travel, in running a farm or an estate, in going to race meetings and the theatre, the ordinary writer of spiritual books must particularly if he has not the active care of souls and does not play the piano or paint work the creative urge out of his system somehow. The apostolic urge is only an aspect of the creative urge, and both find fulfillment of some sort in the writing of books about the spiritual life. If all these energy came forth in the form of FICTION, it would probably be an even greater release… but it is probably true to say that when celibate writers take to telling stories out of their heads they tend to do so with more reference to their hearts than to their minds. Psychologists would tell us that where there has been no experience of passionate romance a good enough substitute may be found in writing about it. Rather than turn themselves into romantic novelists, authors with any sort of interest in the spiritual life are inclined, wisely, to walk on safer ground.”

All of a sudden, someone was affirming me. Here was a Benedictine monk who thought that writing fiction as a form of self-expression (for a spiritual writer, or in my case, a friar/seminarian who writes) is indeed commendable! I felt that God was telling me through Dom Hubert Van Zeller that there was nothing wrong being a fiction writer and at the same time being someone of the cloth. And as I further meditated, I mean, gosh! Even Jesus Himself was a great fictionist! He told a lot of parables which He himself made. He used settings and situations of His place and time and used these elements to capture His audience and bring home to them His message. Jesus Himself was the Word of God and He used words to evangelize. One of the best techniques He used was storytelling!

I should have realized this a long time ago, shouldn’t I? I mean I’ve been reading the daily gospel since I was sixteen and why was it that I was just seeing and realizing this for seemingly the first time? Maybe because I was getting too desensitized by the Gospel, that I was no longer finding ways to cultivate the timeless Word of God to see what God was trying to tell me? Maybe I had simply offered my God-given common sense as a holocaust at the altar of uncharitable, mindless, blind ‘obedience’? (Sorry for the ‘bitterness’, but I’m just being honest. More on “Charity vs. Blind Obedience” in a future article.)

After undergoing a great crucible of trial, I had found myself purified (and still being purified) as God was showing me a new path to follow Him. My time of growth within the friary walls had come to an end. God was going to transplant me in the pastures of my diocese, the Diocese of Tagbilaran. Here I hoped that I was going to find the writer within me again.

WRITING ONCE MORE

…but still in a literary hiatus

The Official Student Publication of Holy Name University

It has been four years since I have returned home and settled once more here in this city. Entering the Immaculate Heart of Mary Seminary has helped revive the writer in me. The constant requirement of writing reflection papers for our philosophy subjects ignited my creative and meditative thinking. The hours of meditation and complete silence within the friary had trained me to reflect and meditate on almost everything that writing reflection papers became just a natural outlet for me. Fortunately for me, I was writing again!

Eventually, I was requested to become Editor-in-Chief of Legite, the official publication of the seminary. I declined at first knowing that it would never be the same experience I had with The WORD, the official student publication of Holy Name University. But, after much reflection, I eventually conceded having in mind that I would be training fellow seminarians in the world of campus journalism and writing.

LEGITE, the Official Publication of
Immaculate Heart of Mary Seminary

During my three-year stint at IHMS, I was only limited to reflection papers, philosophical treatises and minimal poetry. I already had a lot of stories at the back of my mind but still I couldn’t find my voice back into narrative story writing. It’s as if I lost that knack the moment I graduated from HNU and left The WORD. My entire writing sprint as a Wordian was marked with short stories which readers at that time really appreciated. I wanted to write short stories, or even a novel, again. But then I just couldn’t! I didn’t know how or when this literary hiatus would end. But then a savior in the name of Davey would save the day.

MAMANHAGAYS RETURN

A Dora and Diego Trip to Cebu

Like Diego and Dora, Athena and I, complete with our backpacks
 are ready for a literary adventure at the Cebu Literary Festival

Dora and Diego with their backpacks
as they begin an adventure

Fellow WORDians, specifically of our period of “Mamanghagays”, had our little reunion. Davey was our host that night. After a sumptuous dinner at Payag, we proceeded to our old favorite hangout, Dunkin’ Donuts. We continued to talk, laugh and talk some more. Towards the end, Davey invited us to join the Cebu Literary Festival which would take place in Cebu on Saturday, June 20. Athena and I agreed to come. I saved up money until I was finally able to procure a meagre amount enough for the boat trip, meagre meals, and a tiny bit for pasalubong. So Athena and I packed up our bags like Dora the Explorer and Go, Diego Go and hopped on a Lite Shipping Ferry to go to Cebu.

The Cebu Literary Festival finally arrived and we found ourselves at Ayala together with fellow writers attentively listening to the talks and actively participating in the workshops. Thankfully, it was free so that was really a bonus. Davey was there acting as MC. Melgrace also came in and we had a lively get together. We were simply impressed with most of the inputs. It was a nice feeling, discovering that we were not the only weirdos, lit fanatics, and literary wizards in the world. It somehow reinvigorated us to once more take our pens (or tap on our laptops) to write again and speak our hearts out through words. Maybe this is why I revived my blog once more, because suddenly, I have found the real writer in me again. I have finally found my ‘voice’ once more. This time, Time is on my side, giving me enough to think, meditate, reflect and write. This was simply revived because I was with fellow writers who had the same passion, who had the same fire within to let this burn again and revive the artists within us.

While I’m still here at the chancery helping out in writing ecclesiastical communications, I am also able to write these blog articles, write poetry and even stories once more. I am doing this little by little, finding avenues to let out these write-ups for others to read, digest and become part of their lives. God has indeed watered this once-buried seed. Now it has begun to grow and bear little fruits. I realized that this plant is growing well within the pastures of my diocese.

GOODBYE MUSE

Maybe I did not need to have a Muse to tell me what to write. All I needed was the Holy Spirit to push and guide me and even allow my friends and fellow WORDians to journey with me once more as I try to find the writer within. Thankfully, I have found that writer once more. He is here, writing this down, typing these words while it makes a nostalgic click-clackety sound of a typewriter. (Yes, I was able to use a typewriter fifteen years ago. I’m presently using an app which allows typewriter sounds.) One thing is certain, that as long as I live, as long as I can type and write, I will always be a pen in the hands of the Mother of God whose intercession I continue to rely on every day of my life.

I know I have to act on my dreams because I am not getting younger. I know I will be able to write a beautiful narrative, a novella or a novel someday, be it published or unpublished. The product of writing alone does not give joy or satisfaction to a writer—there is also the writing process itself. Come what God may will, I know that at the end of day, I know I will have written another chapter in the story which is my life. I know that in God’s eyes, my life as I make and write it for His glory, will always and eternally be a bestselling novel.

P.S. Maybe the only possible obstacle for me now is the game Plants vs. Zombies 2: It’s About Time which I can’t seem to put down. But even this game has a story to tell! That’s for another article in the future. Until then…