Playing hooky: a creative requirement

Not doing what you're supposed to do is what you're supposed to do.

In this country we thrive on inspirational productivity maxims, sayings like “Inspiration is perspiration” or “90% of success is showing up” or “Writing is all about putting your butt in the chair.”

All true, and I’ve said them many times, but I’m going to counter those maxims today and urge you to practice one of the most noble human proclivities: playing hooky.

I say this for several reasons:

1. We live in an achievement-obsessed culture of productivity, so we rarely take a break (even when sick)—and that culture of productivity can even afflict our creativity;

2. We’re all wigged out because of the apocalyptic nature of our current political situation; and

3. … perhaps most importantly, playing hooky is a way to re-claim ourselves.

When you play hooky, you steal time from others to give to yourself—but “stealing” is the wrong word because we’re really taking back time that is ours to begin with.

Life is essentially a process of giving our time to others—or of them taking it. We easily become incarcerated in our shoulds, our achievements, our aspirations, our productivity, and even our goodness and our responsibilities.

The definition of the term “hooky” is said to have come from the Dutch word hoekje, which means “hide-and-seek.” It’s interesting to me that one has to be sneaky, ornery, subversive—we have to hide to get time for ourselves—as if claiming time for yourself is a crime.

But when you play hooky, it is almost as if you don’t have a choice. It’s as if you’re being pulled by a mysterious gravitational force. An invitation hangs in the air. You didn’t search for it. It finds you.

Finding the divine by hiding from the divine

These thoughts were spawned by a quote from Wendell Berry I included in this newsletter a couple of weeks ago. Berry confessed to skipping church on nice days, which he calls the “best of the sabbath days,” when he indulges in spending time in “a lovely freedom from expectations—other people’s and also my own.”

“I go free from the tasks and intentions of my workdays, and so my mind becomes hospitable to unintended thoughts: to what I am very willing to call inspiration. The poems come incidentally or they do not come at all. If the Muse leaves me alone, I leave her alone. To be quiet, even wordless, in a good place is a better gift than poetry.”

The irony is that by playing hooky from God, Berry finds God. God isn’t in a church, or he’s in the church of the world, rather, the church of Berry’s liberated mind.

That’s why playing hooky is good for writers. It’s a way to get free of all expectations, to get in touch with your muse by letting your mind become open to “unintended thoughts,” and to find inspiration from being quiet, wordless, alone. Playing hooky is a way of cleansing the soul. It’s an ablution of sorts.

I often say that the most important thing as a writer is to keep your momentum going, and that’s what playing hooky does: it fuels your momentum.

People tell me I have a problem with saying yes to too many things, and, yes, they’re right. Hooky is saying yes to saying no. Playing hooky is a special kind of yes.

Some of the most joyous times of my life occurred when I skipped school or skipped work or just decided to pretend that something didn’t matter

The harumphing march of our lives possesses such a bossy vigor and insistence that it can smother our need to drift, meander, disappear.

Blowing things off is a way to listen to the world.

Blowing things off is an act of surrender—surrendering to yourself, but also surrendering to something bigger. Surrender is a type of divine experience because we somehow become ourselves when we lose ourselves.

So play hooky for a day, an afternoon, an hour, or even just 10 minutes. Find the hiding place of yourself.

Spare a dime to help me publish this newsletter?

Please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Because a quote

“The question isn't what are we going to do, the question is what aren't we going to do?”

—Ferris Bueller

A how-to on the dereliction of duty

I’m available for book coaching and editing!

I love working with writers, and I have some space on my Writing Consult calendar if you’re looking for help.

I help people develop books and projects from scratch and sometimes do larger edits on finished manuscripts.

Lately, I've worked on novels, memoirs, and some short story projects. I’ve also worked on helping people figure out what kind of writer they are or want to be, and which projects can help get them there.

Contact me to find out more about my one-on-one work with writers.

Because a photo