I woke up, feeling like I was sinking. I had been dreaming about broken rope bridges that led to watery graves all night and when I finally opened my eyes, I knew I was on that old familiar downswing. Since my diagnosis, I have been learning to identify how to to stop spinning my wheels and implement a pattern interrupt, so I picked up the Pam Grout book : Art & Soul, Reloaded. There aren’t too many new ideas in here, particularly as I am already a devotee of Julia Cameron and Steven Pressfield (whom she references frequently), but I also know that creative nonfiction involves remixing ideas and making them your own, and so I put my protestations aside and read the first few chapters over coffee.
I won’t call it eye-opening, or life-changing – but then, when did those descriptors become the gold standard? The whole point of the book is to create, no matter what, no excuses, even though it’s probably been done before. I was just about to close it down for the day when I stumbled across her chapter on blog writing. I smirked because already I’d had fantasies of shutting down what I’d started.
“Writing a blog is free, priceless, and, according to Seth Godin, one the best things you could ever do for yourself. He recommends writing a blog post a day… Don’t panic, a blog can be a paragraph or two.”
Don’t panic. Ha.
The trouble with blogging every day is that when you are a perfectionist, even the smallest ongoing practice that lands in front of others becomes a behemoth task.
Ironically – figuring out what to write is not my problem – I am an avid diariser. I could write for hours. It’s not the writing. But…the editor in me wants to cut and shape every word to perfection. Do I have time to publish a blog every day and deal with the potential emotional fallout?
Maybe that’s the point.
And yet – I’m competitive enough to rise to a challenge…perhaps even to prioritise it over fear. I’m not sure I want to do it alone though – so as soon as I can rope someone else into it, I will. How’s that for an excuse?
One or two paragraphs. That’s all. Sigh. We’ll see.