Lately: I graduated!

I recently had my very last residency and then graduation from my MFA program. I am still stunned that the two years is complete and I wrote a novel. I cannot even begin to put into words all that I learned and experienced.

So instead I figured I would share with you an excerpt from my Critical Preface paper. I was asked to read this portion at our graduation and I was equal parts honored and nervous!

In my paper I start out with a bit of humor about the stereotype mid-life crisis, and what that looks like. People upending their lives, buying a ridiculous sports car etc. The usual. But I ask the question, could it instead be a beautiful experience where you re-imagine something new for the next chapter of your life?

Here is that excerpt…

When I first began thinking of a re-imagining I only let myself dream so big. I put parameters and roadblocks up. Believing I would not be able to make any big commitments. Everyone still needed me, there wouldn’t be time or money.

I might fail.

I could quite possibly be an awful writer. So, I ignored for a while longer. Keeping a little dream tucked away in my pocket. It was too scary and vulnerable to say it out loud.

I wanted to write.

I wanted to weave stories that were buried in deep tangled settings with characters who would do the unthinkable. Characters who might stay the same and live in heartache or who might break free and discover their true self. Maybe they jump without thinking, maybe they stick to the rules. These characters might say what I would never say, but that is the beauty of it, it would be an adventure. I longed to tell tales of joy and fear, adventure, and love. I had a desire again to learn and grow, change, and develop my voice.

Eventually that little tucked away dream began to dig its way out of my pocket. Characters came to me in dreams, and when I woke, I had to write them down. They plagued me, who they were, what they wanted. I had to write their stories. Next my pocket dream inched out in my husband saying ‘what’s stopping you? Do this, don’t wait. Jump in and create.’ Then in my community around me that said ‘Yes! Alyssa this is amazing. You were made to create.’

After I got into the MFA program at Regis, I struggled with that terrible nagging imposter voice in my head.

Everyone is smarter than you.

Every person here knows more than you.

Your grammar sucks. You started this too late.

And SO many more thoughts and lies plagued me during the residency and after in the quiet of my writing. I will not lie; those voices are still here. BUT the small confidences I have gained help me push past and through these moments.

The amazing thing about this program is that we want good for everyone in their writing dreams. We celebrate and congratulate the truly talented and gorgeous writing we see in one another. Is there anything more vulnerable than sharing your words and thoughts out loud with strangers?

And almost worse with those you love.

What if they must lie and say it’s good, when really, they’re thinking, oh no, she is not good at this. There goes thousands of dollars!

A friend of mine says it’s like being pantsed on stage. I equate it to taking your clothes off in front of everyone and then asking them to clap for you. Our words are most often hidden deep down, and when we have unearthed them to share, it is exposing. We put ourselves on display even.

But therein lies the power of our words and the ability to share them with others. We are turning over the soil and growing deep green lines of poetry or trailing vines winding into stories. We have things to say, sometimes they are funny or crass; often they are painful or revealing. But always they are valuable and important for us to write. I have been so inspired by the creative people around me and in this program.

There is something mysterious and magical in the creative life. I believe in a higher power in this world. A God who created and made us to create as well. Many people don’t and that is ok. But I do believe creating brings us closer to one another and often that higher mystical power. I have come to believe that in this world full of pain and hate, loss, and loneliness there is hope and joy when we create, alone and together. Power that can bring light to the darkness, hope to the hopeless. In linking arms and lifting one another up in our art and writing, it allows a collective experience.

Brené Brown talks about this in her book Braving the Wilderness. She has a chapter called ‘Hold hands. With strangers.’ In it she talks about what it can look like when we experience inextricable connections in this life. When we experience collective joy or pain, these experiences are deeply human. They tell us what is true and possible in the human spirit. We need them with loved ones and with strangers.

She says, “But the more we’re willing to seek out moments of collective joy and show up for experiences of collective pain-for real, in person, not online- the more difficult it becomes to deny our human connection, even with people we may disagree with. Not only do moments of collective emotion remind us of what is possible between people, but they also remind us of what is true about the human spirit.”

In our program we start out as strangers working alongside one another but in our own world of writing. Slowly we transform into a community that collectively celebrates and encourages one another as we travel along.