That’s right. I’m back.
I told you early January and I lied. I didn’t mean to. But I did. I needed time. It’s not easy to keep up with the amount of writing that I was demanding from myself. And, as you would expect, I found myself getting upset about writing.
This blog took a hit. The websites that I write for took a hit. Even my own creative writing pushed me over the edge. We’re talking full breakdown. I started to question whether or not writing was something that I should be doing.
Let’s face it. I don’t give myself a lot of spare time. Side projects line up and I end up stealing time away from relaxation or my partner or my friends to try and finish them. I started to question why I dedicate so much time to a hobby that didn’t feel like it was giving me much in return.
What the point?
I guess I don’t have an answer for you. But I can tell you that I pulled myself out of a slump by sitting down with a pen and a notebook and writing. No stories, no narrative, no purpose. I wrote out thoughts and ideas and the random shit that pops into my head. And I started to feel better.
I think that is where I decided that I am okay writing. It’s not just a hobby. It’s something that keeps me steady. I’m a worse person when I don’t make time to write. But I need to remember that “getting somewhere” with writing is not the goal. The goal is the act in itself. Whatever happens otherwise is dressing.
So, I’m back. And I think that means a lot of new things. First, I need to be easier on myself regarding where I think my writing is “going.” It may well go no where and I need to work on being okay with that. Second, I need to slow down the production. I’m not doing myself any favors pushing at full gear at all times. Third, I need to work on being more present with regard to my creativity. Creating something is beautiful and I need to appreciate that more.
The blog will continue on. I think I will try my normal one post per week. But it might start to slow down a little bit. We’ll see. Nothing is for sure. There may be less photos. There’s nothing inspiring about the gray winter in Massachusetts. But who knows. Maybe they’ll stick around too.
I missed you, reader. Even if you’rer not out there and I’m writing to no one, sending the missive into the universe has always felt good.