When you’re making something, there’s always a point where you become exhausted by your work, believing that it’s not worth the time, that no one will see or read or wear or touch or listen to what you made.
It’s a sort of imposter syndrome, a feeling that you are making nothing worth encountering, that your point of view is invalid. You are often led to believe that you should focus on something else. Get a real job! Have a kid. Volunteer! Do something of actual substance.
I get this way. I still do but I feel this way a lot. Then Bobby or my friend Rachel or someone goes “Well, the difference is you,” making it clear that it is me (you) and my (your) point of view that people want to hear. You are what makes the difference. Every story has been told, in a sense, but it is my (your) spin on it that makes it interesting. You have the power to make and the way you make it makes all the difference.
It’s a weird thing to learn and to explain and to get out to another person. Thankfully, I stumbled upon a little poem to help explain this feeling and why you need to keep doing. It’s called “Why Bother?” and is by Sean Thomas Dougherty from his new poetry collection The Second O Of Sorrow.
The poem is short and sweet – and gets at why you need to keep doing you. In eighteen words and some creative spacing, it impresses the thought into you. Read it and reread it. Stamp it on the back of your hand.
Because right now, there is ⠀ ⠀ someone
out there with
a wound ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ in the exact shape
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ of your words.