Writing Challenge. Day 6.

This writing challenge is going well. I mean, the perfectionist in me says it’s not. I haven’t written every single day, but most days. One or two of those days, my writing session was under 30 minutes. I haven’t written “post worthy” (let alone submission worthy) material every day but I have written. I keep telling myself that’s what matters. A writer friend kindly reminded me that it doesn’t have to be War and Peace every day.

I’m learning that writing about things that interest me is the only way to get words on the page with ease. I am fully capable of writing about things that don’t interest me. I’ve done it before and actually got paid for it (sort of). But it wasn’t enjoyable and turned writing into something I began to dread. I don’t ever want that to happen.

My fear is that if I am ever able to write for a living, it will become more work than play and I’ll end up loathing it. Then again, there are those people (few, rare people) who love what they do and say they feel like they never have to work a day in their lives. How does one get to that point? How do you keep loving what you do from becoming work?

When I think about the things I love, things I’m passionate about, that I could write forever about, I think of things like yoga and writing and reading and the inner workings of my heart and mind and how that’s connected and comes into play with my relationships with other people. That’s some fascinating stuff. I am just narcissistic enough to think people would want to read it.  I’m also just insecure enough to fear that they won’t. It’s in that place where I sit, torn, paralyzed.

So I remind myself that it’s all about just showing up, every day. And I gently remove the pressure of having to write War and Peace every morning. Just show up, see what happens.

 

 

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