TIME TO TOSS

Confessions of an absentee blogger

I sat down to write a confession and explain to you my lack of posting, so, of course, checked my email one more time. It wasn’t procrastination this time, it was a gift. Two authors I subscribe to had written – and sent – similar confessions! They both wrote honestly about being knocked around by life and this quarantine. They were mentally and emotionally exhausted.

It had been a while since I’d opened something from them, but time isn’t measuring the same these days. Routines are irregular at best. Maybe I just didn’t notice.

Their stories gave me the courage to go ahead with mine.

In my writing world there’s a motivational quote from Seth Godin that says, “Real artists ship.” I’m not an artist, but I am definitely a writer. Writers ship. I can develop all sorts of ideas, organize a bunch of essays, produce short and long poems and reveries, but if I don’t ship, I’m not a practicing writer.

I hadn’t published on my blog for a month. Instead of posting I’ve done other stuff. I’ve replaced a sliding glass door, baked bread, and attended a BUNCH of Zoom workshops. I planted a fall garden, fed the deer, squirrels, cats and birds. Even watched Hamilton – twice.

However, none of that is writing. I resonated with these other two confessors, and agree quarantine living is a bit stifling. But as I started thinking through my own block, I realize that my being stuck has to do with what I’m holding on to.

I hold onto things. I’m not a hoarder, just want to do the best I can in alignment with my core values. I hold onto old clothes because fabric is nice and I can sew and re-purpose some of them. I value the earth and believe we should reduce, reuse, and recycle; I live that as best I can. Last fall, I repurposed wood and windows around here to build my little greenhouse.

I do hold things for a while, but then, I get crazy and start tossing. This morning, before the recycle truck got to my street, I let loose! It was time to toss!

Plastic drink bottles (first I cut off their bottoms for storing screws and nails), 2-quart juice bottles (cut and kept parts for covering tender shoots in the garden), and way-to-many yogurt containers. I stomped small cardboard containers (I use larger ones for flooring in the greenhouse) and the full assortment went into the recycle bin. Didn’t even look over my shoulder.

I can’t tell you how many hours I spend walking in circles around my writing room holding onto a piece I’ve written like I hold onto plastic and cardboard. It’s time I tossed some things. First, I’m tossing some writing expectations I’ve been holding on to. Some are gremlin whispers, some are college composition standards that I’ve gotten bogged down by. After this decisive rant, I hope to feel as light as when I tossed all that plastic.

Tossing out the expectation of correct punctuation, spelling or word choice. Those nearly bury me already.

Tossing out my hope that SEO keywords will draw readers. Tossing the idea that the category of what I write – whether it be essay, article, posting, update, or question to explore – will be precise.  Whatever you, dear reader, choose it to be, it will be.

I’m tossing out the idea I’ll ever be prolific. Just because my mind is flush with ideas doesn’t mean they will (or even should) make it to the page.

Postings won’t be perfect, but they’ll continue to be honest. They may not be my best, but really, what is my best? Maybe my best practice, in these times, is 80% of normal best.

I want you to know I’m here for you more than I want you to think I’m doing things right.

I just came back from getting a drink of water after hand-writing this confession article and caught myself humming a tune. That’s what I’m talking about! Tossing off a burden and freeing my voice to sing!

Before I “ship” this, I have a couple questions for you.

• What’s your description of your best?
• What can you toss that might free you up to sing?