Write anyway.

sit. write.

There are so many reasons I don’t write here much. I’m sure the list is familiar to lots of you: I have two young kids and I cannot figure out when to shower, much less write. I still can’t decide how much is okay to write about my family. I expect a lot out of my own writing and have not been very open to sometimes posting tiny plumes of words. And finally, the big one for me maybe: is writing about myself this much too self-indulgent? When all is said and done, will I wish I had directed this energy toward something broader, toward building loving community, here on my block and out there in the world?

But writing here flexes my storytelling muscles and sends up smoke signals – of distress, yes, but also the sort that say, “I’ve found good food and shelter from the storm; come join me!” – and opens up all kinds of doors. Writing here has been my respite during some tough years, and even the sporadic posts have become a record I would otherwise have lost. Also, the satisfaction of seeing a thought through to its natural end – a deep pleasure I took wholly for granted in my 20s – should not be underestimated. All this from crumpling up that list of reasons not to write.

And so I’m issuing myself a small challenge: seven posts in seven days. Public accountability does not generally light much of a fire under my rump (to wit: my Year of Mornings 365 several years ago, which took me a full two years to complete) and sometimes it even makes me downright irritable, but I think I can do this. I was pretty sure I was going to, and then I read Janelle’s awesome post yesterday on Renegade Mama, Twelve Easy Steps to Doing Creative Work While Parenting, where she said, “Write anyway write instead write because of write when you can’t write.” And apparently that did light a fire under my rump, because here I am. My aim is to keep the posts short, and since ’tis the season, I’m going to focus on gratitude.

See you here tomorrow!

14 thoughts on “Write anyway.

  1. Jennifer Jo

    I’ve had the same anxieties about blogging. Especially the part about being self-indulgent. But here’s the thing. The blog IS self-indulgent. TOTALLY self-indulgent. I don’t write for anyone but myself. I don’t blog for anyone but myself. This is MY outlet. MY project. MY passion. Once I accepted that, I could finally relax into the tending of the blog. ‘Course, I still get caught up in worrying about what others think/want, but then I have to redirect myself back to the heart of the blog—me—and I relax into the space again.

    In other words, if you want it, go for it. Embrace yourself.

    Reply
    1. Lisa Post author

      Jennifer, I’ve been thinking about this comment for several days, and as your words sit with me, I find them really freeing! Thank you so much for framing it this way for me. I think you’re right, and that I need to trust myself to be myself, and just see what places that takes me.

      Reply
  2. Janitalatifa

    To look at it another way when I read blogs about peoples lives I often get a sudden insight into mine and or an idea of something to try like you did when you where add what Janel wrote. I am not a blogger but I do totally enjoy hearing what’s happening in other lives . So keep it up!

    Reply
    1. Lisa Post author

      I’m exactly the same way! I almost never judge what I read elsewhere the same way I seem to be judging myself. Not sure what’s up with that, but perhaps I need to let it go.

      Reply
  3. Margit Van Schaick

    My best friend died last Thusday from a cerebral aneurysm. Life is, indeed, so precious. And, we only have so much of it. Really makes me question how I choose to spend it. So far, I’ve almost always chosen to do the ” right thing”–work, work, work taking care of others, instead of doing what I’m most passionate about, what I truly love to do the most. It’s time to change– TOTALLY. Now and for forever! Thanks for your affirming reminder. I do so hope you follow your own desires–your life will be vastly more textured, vastly more full of life itself.

    Reply
    1. Lisa Post author

      Oh, Margit, I am so sad and sorry about your friend. Perhaps it’s not the writing about ourselves that is too much navel gazing, but rather all the fretting about it. I will think of you and your friend as I consider how I want to build community, here and offline.

      Reply
  4. Kathryn

    Thank you for this, and Janelle’s words of wisdom. insert “make art” where “write” is, and this is me. I am looking forward to your posts for the next 7 days.

    Reply
  5. Pingback: Enormously gratifying (also: eggnog!) | Coffee in the Woodshed

  6. Sally

    So glad to pop over to this site and see all of the new posts, especially one so honest and relate-able as this (for me, it took five years even to successfully start blogging after a few failed attempts). Just wanted to say your writing and photos have always kept me coming back so that’s gotta mean something, right?

    Reply

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