Killing the White

I know.

 

This is scary.

 

A White blank page.

 

It’s asking you to make a mark. To fill it. It’s staring at you and calling something out of you.

 

It’s speaking to a part of you that perhaps you’re not even fully aware of  yet. You maybe know the first sentence or the first few brush strokes or the first few notes of the melody but beyond that it’s a complete mystery.

 

This is where we make our biggest mistake. We think we have to know the last sentence before we can write the first sentence; that we have to know how the song ends before we write the first verse; that we need to know the full picture before we pick up the paintbrush.

 

But we don’t. That’s not how creativity works. That’s how faith works. They demand that we begin before we know how we will end.

 

It screams at us with such intimidation, ‘You’ll never fill me. You’ll never put anything of worth on this blank page.’

 

The only thing we have to do is kill the white.

 

Put something on it in order to silence it. Make a mark – even if it’s bad.  It’s easier to edit something terrible than wait for something amazing just to fall out of the sky. That rarely happens.

By putting something on the page you are taking control. You are refusing to be intimidated. You are making your mark. You may not know what the end looks like but you are making a stab at the beginning.

 

You are killing the White.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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