I write poetry and end in the middle of a line. I write a blog post and end 50 words before I said I would. I write and don’t revise, don’t even check the spelling, this is what 25 and out of school looks like (at least its one example).
In October, I set out to write one poem and one blog post every day. I set out to exercise every day. I have failed already, but I didn’t realize I could fail so much until April. April is kicking my ass. My walking buddy has told me that I need to learn to be okay with failure, but I am strenuously avoiding it. Maybe by the end of the month, I’ll accept that I need to figure this out.
This is all just to say there will be more failure before I’m back on track. I am away at camp next weekend, so I’ll be missing at least one post. I’d originally thought to write one, still, old-school and on paper while away, but I’ve given up that dream a week in advance. Right now, I’m just hoping to get a moment to myself while I’m away, and to get my head back in the game before I go. I’m also trying to let go of failing my morning pages at camp (chances of waking up before my campers? Unlikely).
It’s the middle of the night (for me) here and I’m thinking about next week. I’m not in the moment, and I don’t have the words to express what is in-the-moment-happening, which is nothing really, because nothing really happens at eleven o’clock at night. I haven’t made my word count. I haven’t made a point. Strangers on the internet can see this. I think I’ll end here.