Lauren van Vliet, author

The non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity – Frank Kafka

As we launch in Holy Week, I feel more and more like the monster courting insanity. Life in a large parish is busy enough in the first place, but add the extras of Lent, and other diocesan events to attend, plus trying to keep up with friends, relax and grow in my own faith, it can hard to make time for hobbies, even those that help me slow down and feel like a human (rather than a two-headed monster).

But, when I don’t make time for writing, I am left feeling like I have a mental cold. My head is plugged up with too many thoughts, so many that I can’t look at just one. When I try, they all come flooding forward, demanding attention. But not all of the thoughts are equal, some are ideas for blog posts, others are ideas for editing a novel (which is different from ideas for writing the first draft of a novel), still others are ideas for talks to give or curriculum that needs to be developed. Trying to untangle them all can feel impossible, and it’s easier to walk away, even though I haven’t actually done anything to tame the monster trying to escape.

It’s similar when I’m spending so much time doing ministry that I forget to intentionally stop and pray. All of my ministry is a prayer which has the opportunity to help me journey with God. But, most of the time, this means that I am journeying with others, praying with others, and focusing my efforts on helping others grow in their faith. In order for these things to help me grow in my faith, I need to step back and invite God in to help me reflect on them. What’s more, I need to sit with God, just Him and I, and listen.

And when I don’t, everything jumbles together. Being present at Mass as a staff person runs into sitting down and attending Mass. Praying with the students spills over into offering prayers for my own personal intentions. And quieting my mind to listen becomes next to impossible. What’s more, I find it increasingly difficult to find God in the everyday, to understand how He is speaking to me in the course of my day. God feels increasingly distant, and I feel more disjointed from things around me.

At some point, God brings clarity. All of the insights rush together into an intense moment where everything spills out, and I feel like a wrung out sponge. Sometimes this intensity is good, cathartic; it’s the way I feel after a writing binge. But, like the cycle the triggered it, it isn’t sustainable.

I can’t go through life feeling spiritually (or creatively) blocked, especially as a minister. My faith is intimately tied to my day-to-day living, not to mention my livelihood. And, while desolation is a normal part of our faith journey, I’m talking about something different. This block is my own doing, it’s when I don’t make time to listen to God because I am so busy doing things for everyone else.

And the way to avoid the monster is deceptively simple, it’s to be intentional about making time to be quiet, to pray and be with God. But much like with writing (or any other hobby), it’s so much easier to make excuses about not having time right now, or being tired, or any number of other reasons. And that’s when we open the door for the monster.