I've written on the daily for 170+ days.
I lose the count of which post is which without my Facebook feed, and I'm not on Facebook every day. So in a few days I'll get my count right again, but until then, I just know that I've written for the better part of a year, on this blog, every day.
And I feel like I've reached the writing equivalent of what marathon runners call "the wall." It's not that I don't want to write, or that I can't write, it's that something inside me finds it terribly difficult to go on. I've trained, I've tried, I've given it my all, but it's this mental obstacle I've got to overcome.
I must go on, I promised myself.
It's not that my words have run out (or that the racetrack runs out), I've plenty more to say (and plenty more ground to cover).
It's not that the words have lost their color or their appeal (the scenery is gorgeous still).
It's not that I'm losing interest, words are my catharsis and artistry (my athletic expression).
What it is:
It's that writing, EVERY DAY, writing pieces of my soul and sharing them with the world, and sharing them raw and relatively unedited--well, it takes guts. And I'm tired. I'm running the race and my mind is burning and my fingers are stumbling.
But after 170+ days, I'm not going to quit.
I'mma pull at this wall and it's bricks and the mortar in between and I'mma write til I've done my year
and then some
because I promised myself
and writing
helps me understand my humanity
and rejoice in it.
I lose the count of which post is which without my Facebook feed, and I'm not on Facebook every day. So in a few days I'll get my count right again, but until then, I just know that I've written for the better part of a year, on this blog, every day.
And I feel like I've reached the writing equivalent of what marathon runners call "the wall." It's not that I don't want to write, or that I can't write, it's that something inside me finds it terribly difficult to go on. I've trained, I've tried, I've given it my all, but it's this mental obstacle I've got to overcome.
I must go on, I promised myself.
It's not that my words have run out (or that the racetrack runs out), I've plenty more to say (and plenty more ground to cover).
It's not that the words have lost their color or their appeal (the scenery is gorgeous still).
It's not that I'm losing interest, words are my catharsis and artistry (my athletic expression).
What it is:
It's that writing, EVERY DAY, writing pieces of my soul and sharing them with the world, and sharing them raw and relatively unedited--well, it takes guts. And I'm tired. I'm running the race and my mind is burning and my fingers are stumbling.
But after 170+ days, I'm not going to quit.
I'mma pull at this wall and it's bricks and the mortar in between and I'mma write til I've done my year
and then some
because I promised myself
and writing
helps me understand my humanity
and rejoice in it.
Well just so you know, I completely love your raw, unedited, posts and the way I relate and the thoughts they inspire in me. I actually got on here because I'm watching sleepless in Seattle and it made me think of your post about chick flicks, and how I've always felt the same way, and realizing this one annoys me too. But I want to make a recommendation. The movie this movie is "inspired by." Ann affair to remember, with Cary Grant. It's completely wholesome and wonderful ;)
ReplyDeleteAnonymous friend, hello! Thank you for your kind comment. I'm so glad you've enjoyed my writing. I will have to watch "An Affair to Remember," Thank you for the recommendation! God bless!
DeleteI didn't mean to be anonymous, haha. This is Jill Thorup :)
DeleteOh Wonderful Jill! <3 Glad to know who you are ;)
DeleteYou're awesome, Mikayla! :)
ReplyDelete