It was a lot easier to blog about stuff in Europe.
I mean, obviously.
Not because of being in Europe, per say, more because of the general excitement and inspiration of travel and the relative lack of social and work commitments. This has been a fairly regular pattern for me: go live somewhere interesting, get excited and blog for a while, come home, get busy, and let the blog die.
This time, however, I vowed to myself to do things differently. After all, I’m not usually short of things I want to blog about so much as time in which to get them down in writing. This time, I was going to make time. I was going to prioritize. I was going to get my life in order and keep it there.
I got out… what, three blogs in August?
I’d do better in September.
And now it’s the 18th, and?
And I’ve edited that date for over a week now. “It’s the 8th… the 9th… the 10th…”
Time carries on, sing Simon and Garfunkel in my mind. The leaves that are green. Yeah, I get it.
I keep wanting every post to be perfect. Meaningful, or funny, or compelling. But some days, I just don’t have it. I don’t know where I’m going with this, or if I’m running fast in the wrong direction. While traveling, my posts had a natural cohesion. Now, in spite of having things I want to write about, the topics are scattered.
But putting something out there, even if I’m not sure what my long-term goal is, gets me father than holding thoughts back till they’re complete. If you start, and then start again, and then pick yourself up and just keep starting every day, one day you look back and realize you’re not starting anymore. You’ve hit your stride. And maybe that thing which doesn’t make sense today makes a lot of sense in retrospect.
That’s what I’m hoping anyway.