What I would say is that may be going about it in all the wrong way, and that what actually may be most important is to think about positive emotion as a very delicate balance, and an equilibrium that we want to constantly keep check on.
You work yourself to exhaustion. Each day’s march is long and tiring. You flog yourself forward, calling it virtue. Your fatigue makes you bitter. Life’s sweetness is lost on you. You believe it is my will for you to be long-suffering. You speak of duty and not beauty. Stop. Do not go one inch farther forward. Put down your burden. Place all of your cares and concerns into my hands. Surrender your trying. Rest in me for a while. Allow the world to spin forward with out your shoulder to the wheel.
What do you see when you stop? You see that you are exhausted. Give me your fatigue. Do not deny how you feel. You are lost and confused without your job. It is abruptly clear that work served you, giving you a false sense of security. Rather, allow me to work through you. Do not muster your own resources. Use mine.
I am a limitless energy in which you can rest. Allow me to cue you as to when you strive and when you allow all striving to cease. Together, we can forge your meaning in me, in my timing; I ask you to rest and to recreate that I may express myself in your newfound and joyous energies.
“You don’t have to get a job that makes others feel comfortable about what they perceive as your success. You don’t have to explain what you plan to do with your life. You don’t have to justify your education by demonstrating its financial rewards. You don’t have to maintain an impeccable credit score. Anyone who expects you to do any of those things has no sense of history or economics or science or the arts. You have to pay your electric bill. You have to be kind. You have to give it all you got. You have to find people who love you truly and love them back with the same truth. But that’s all.”—Cheryl Strayed (via the-mineral-king)
“Let other complain that the age is wicked; my complaint is that it is paltry; for it lacks passion. Men’s thoughts are thin and flimsy like lace, they are themselves pitiable like the lacemakers. The thoughts of their hearts are too paltry to be sinful. For a worm it might be regarded as a sin to harbor such thoughts, but not for a being made in the image of God. Their lusts are dull and sluggish, their passions sleepy…This is the reason my soul always turns back to the Old Testament and to Shakespeare. I feel that those who speak there are at least human beings: they hate, they love, they murder their enemies, and curse their descendants throughout all generations, they sin.”—
Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life
He might have been more impressed with our age…we seem to have found a way to blend paltriness and flimsy thoughts with a good, hearty, lusty ability to hate, to murder our (ideological) enemies, and to truly, truly curse our descendents through all generations for all time. ~Nobody
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don’t do it. if you’re doing it for money or fame, don’t do it. if you’re doing it because you want women in your bed, don’t do it. if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don’t do it. if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it, don’t do it. if you’re trying to write like somebody else, forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently. if it never does roar out of you, do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you’re not ready.
don’t be like so many writers, don’t be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don’t be dull and boring and pretentious, don’t be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. don’t add to that. don’t do it. unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don’t do it. unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don’t do it.
when it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you.