I was teaching fourth grade then. It was October, I believe, and my students comments were regularly peppered with "I can't..." They couldn't figure out how to solve the math problem. They couldn't figure out how to make trees for their shoebox scene. They could not add any more details to their story.
I got tired.
Of course, I had my own "I can'ts" but they remained buried...unspoken.
So, in an effort to end the whining, I had everyone (even me) write down all the things they could NOT do on little slips of paper. I borrowed a shovel from our custodian, and we all walked outside, had a "funeral" and buried our "I can'ts."
From that point, none of us were allowed to say, "I can't." After all, it was dead. Buried under the ground. No longer breathing...
|photo from the queen of subtle|
As writers, as artists, there are many times we try to convince ourselves that we're incapable of doing something. I can't carve out some time for writing this weekend---I'm too busy.
I can't rewrite this so that I can resubmit it.
I can't win this contest...I don't have a chance.
I have a big "I can't" revolving around how often I write. I keep wrestling with it, but the self-defeated attitude wins most of the time.
Perhaps it's time for another funeral...