“Arrange whatever pieces come your way.” –Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf once said a woman has to have money and a room of her own to write fiction, I’d like to revise the notion now that we’ve got the internet and times have really changed. I say we do need space of our own, a laptop/computer, some earplugs, regularly scheduled time, and a lot of healthy, compassionate self-worth to give ourselves what we need to create.
I’m not talking bravado self-worth–the false kind we muster when defending our worth while navigating an inner dialogue of low self-worth. But I’m talking the quiet, kind, focused sort of worth an artisan gives her work. The kind of worth a master winemaker gives a vintage. The kind of worth a farmer sows into soil. The kind of worth that costs nothing and provides everything. Time. Caring. Commitment. Quiet confidence.
As I’ve been working with a contractor to build my new writing “shed” (since I had to take down my yurt), it’s been interesting to look at what I think this space is “worth.” I’ve been looking at windows, building materials, you name it, and budgeting what my writing space “should” cost. I’ve been struck with a question, “What’s it worth to me?” Which could easily be shifted to: “What is my writing worth to me” ahem, everything. And then, “Is my writing worth all of this cost?” And then when I drill down: Am I worth this?
Am I using the building of a new writing shed to procrastinate my writing? Am I addicted to the build up of writing and decorating? If the writing is so important to me, why don’t I just don my headphones and grab my laptop and write? Why go through all of the expense of a new structure? Is the money worth more in the bank then in a structure I can go escape to and write?
It’s been interesting how much I put off the spending when it comes to MY space, and how I’ll jump into redesign the living room and fund it without a question as it’s for the family and friends. With this exercise, I’ve realized I have been masking my lack of self-worth by working too much and avoiding what I really want.
A damn room of my own.
Really, my own.
No kittens, kids or piles of laundry.
A room with a lock and key only I have.
As we discover what we truly are called by our souls to do, we need to ask ourselves some questions.
Are you willing to be worth the time to daydream?
Are you worth the time it’ll take to rewrite?
Are you worth the space it’ll take to spread out creatively, emotionally, physically?
Are you worth the energy it’ll require to follow, pursue, and truly uncover your original dream?
Are you worth the money it’ll cost to nurture your needs: For me I need total silence.
Claiming a space of your own takes energy. Finding where you fit in the world takes time. Understanding you may not fit a genre, system or industry takes courage, and in my world, a community. But, nothing can happen until you decide you are worth it.
Will your work be worth reading?
I don’t know, did you give it the time to be worth reading?
Will the effort you’ll put into your business be worth it?
I don’t know, will the business be worth your time to build it?
I get questions from authors and CEO’s who are wanting to embody their own brand like, “Will blogging be worth it in building a platform?”
I say, “Will it be worth reading?” If not, then it’s not worth it to yourself or others.
And that’s the question, isn’t it? Are you worth success? Are you worth giving the space and time to reflect, rewrite, ponder, and read? Do you value your contributions or are you hoping to validate them by someone else’s opinion?
When you are ready to answer “Yes, I am worth it,” as a full-body yes, then you will be able to achieve and receive it.
Are you worth a room of your own? Are you worth the time you want to spend writing or creating? Are your ideas worthy enough to get funded? Are you worthy enough to get funded?
Guess who the only person is that can answer those questions?
So, Virginia Woolf is right in the sense you need resources—space and money to cover your bills so you can write. You need though to have enough self-worth to honor yourself that space to think, to write, to dream, to envision.
You need to decide that your dreams are worth the time, money, effort, and love it’s going to take to invest in them. Until you do that wholeheartedly, it’ll be hard to write, create and build something that others will stop and notice. You are your first reader, your first customer, your first supporter—how well are you doing on those fronts?
You need to decide that your intuition and sensitivity are precious resources and worth exploring.
You need to choose to give yourself the time to potentially fail, potentially rise, potentially find that you have not only something to say, but you have something to express that may not make sense in the first or second draft. But you are worth the third draft. And the fourth.
You need to decide that your expression on this earth is worth your time, effort, and space.
Because no one else can give you worth. It’s got to emanate from you.
No publisher can give you worth. No agent can. No reader can. No viewer or customer can. Unless you are ready to be worth it to yourself. That worth is what brings all other things to you.
Be worth a room, a forest, a quiet space to focus. Be worth support. Be worth time to be.
Be worth abundance. Be worth a reader’s time. Be worth that big dream coming true.
Because if you don’t think yourself worthy how will we?
Let’s claim your worth this week. Let me know how you do and what exercises or gifts you give yourself in the realm of space, time, money and permission.
I’ll meet you in the comments. Here’s to your worth. I’m stating for all to read here that I’m getting the soundproofing for my writing shed—even if it’s expensive 🙂