A Habit of Writing

I’ve been quiet again. I’ve fallen out of the habit of writing I suppose. It’s not that I’ve had a lack of things to say, it’s more like a writing melancholy exists and I might be afraid to indulge it. It doesn’t matter. Write I should. Because the habit of writing is important.

I started this blog at the end of 2008. Newly single and fresh out of the career I had been cultivating for almost two years. I found solace in the idea of a blog, despite finding the word “blog” to be irksome. How can anyone take “blog” seriously? You can’t. It’s too stupid a word.

But there I was, ready to write again after two years of neglect. And I wanted to re-create the habit. Because the habit counts far more than bouts of inspiration do. It takes nothing for me to sit down and write a whole bunch of words with zero inspiration. I don’t have to be amped to write. The problem is that without the “amp” it feels pointless to sit down and do it, even though it isn’t pointless. Feelings are stupid. They lie a lot.

And so here I am again. Ready to write. Ready to re-cultivate the habit. Because writing was one of the reasons I moved here. The freedom to write a bit more. Although granted I didn’t take into account the busyness of this place. The busyness that consists of fetching and taking kids to school and sport. That part keeps tripping me up. Distracting me. Eating away at my time because it takes so long for me to snap out of one mode and into another.

We’re cultivating though.

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