Usually when I don’t have something to say, my policy is to keep my mouth shut (and my typing fingers still), but since I write a blog, and I’ve made a commitment to post on a regular basis that leaves me in a bit of a quandary (see Monday’s post).
(And maybe me keeping my mouth shut when I don’t have anything important to say isn’t quite accurate, but stick with me here.)
Every time I come up with a topic, I second guess myself.
“No one’s going to want to read that.”
“That’s been said a thousand times already.”
“I really should get my act more together before I go writing about anything.”
You get the idea.
It’s sort of a given with writing that writer’s write because they have something to share. But I’m stuck on my porch thinking of a still and quiet night (see Tuesday’s post) and finding there are no words to express the blank, screaming space between my ears.
It’s kind of disheartening.
I have a feeling this is somehow connected to my book coming out and actually making it into the hands of real, live readers who are going to have an opinion about it and who might end up thinking I have no business putting one word next to another. Plus I’ve checked my stats one too many times and read too much into the numbers.
(The whole reclusive writer bit looks rather good right now.)
So here’s a post about nothing really because we have those days when the well is dry, but life keeps on rolling. I suppose that’s what all the “run the race” talk is about. Life’s not always going to be peachy. The words aren’t always going to fly. And sometimes it feels more like two steps back than one forward.
But we keep walking anyway. We don’t just give up. Not yet.
We could stop. We could say,
“This is silly, and nothing’s ever going to really come of it.”
“I’m getting too old for this.”
Yeah, we could say all that. That option will always be there.
But every time I think about how hard it all is and how empty I feel and how long that road looks, I remember it’s my road, and there’s a great deal of purpose in the journey.
And I feel just a little bit grateful that nothing really good is super easy.