It was good strategy. It made sense. It was the New Year. So I signed up for the free blogging course. In 12 weeks I was going to have a fresh approach and renewed voice on my blog.
I was careful in my choice. I looked at many. I prayed. I thought it was a good fit.
But it wasn’t.
There was nothing innately Bad about this course. It just wasn’t what I was looking for. And instead of just unsubscribing or throwing out the emails AS SOON as I realized this wasn’t helping, I dug in my heels and committed to ‘FINISHING THIS THING’. So each time I read (or skimmed) I became less and less clear on what I was going to offer AND if what I had to offer was worth it.
Towards the end of the 12 weeks, I did begin to just throw them out. And unsubscribed from the writer’s blog. Because it was becoming clear to me that this wasn’t not just not helping, but it was harming my journey in BlogVille.
The phrase ‘I lost my voice’ came to me when I visited my parents chicken house last week. They keep about a dozen chickens and have off and on since I was in high school. (At the time I wasn’t fond of the chores connected to the birds – including shoveling out a winters worth of droppings – Dad was not sexist in doling out chores). But now I often will visit the henhouse when I visit my parents immersing myself in the warm smell accompanied by the noises of birds. They really are beautiful.
Anyhow, on Easter, when I visited the chickens, one bird stood apart and crowed at me with determination. But no noise came from her throat. Again and again she tried to make some noise, and again and again she looked like a baby bird waiting for a worm.
I’ve never really had a severe case of laryngitis. I don’t know what work a patient goes through to get back a voice. Liquids and rest? (I have even less idea what that dear hen had wrong and how/if it will be righted.)
I’m on Hour 8 of a 30ish Hour Retreat. Marc is with the kids and I am at a hotel not too far away. So the rest is beginning. And with a couple great books and some writing the nourishment is in process as well.
|Sunflower Waking Up –
makes me happy on a fall day
So, I said I would be writing every day this month. And I haven’t written since last Thursday. Since we are half-way through the month, I suppose it’s a good day to write about what I’ve learned about writing and myself so far.
When I plan to do something, I do it. I made a commitment to myself to write every day. And until last Thursday I did. Even if it came to the end of the day and I was getting ready for bed, I would write.
I will keep working until the work is done… and the work never ends. So when I turned off the computer last Thursday night, I opted to not turn it on again until Monday morning. I needed a rest from screen.
Screen makes a lot of lines fuzzy. I can go from writing to shopping to snooping (er, I mean social media). I am highly distractible. Especially when I am tired. From doing all that work that never gets done.
How am I trying to apply what I’ve learned?
- Spending the evenings knitting rather than with the laptop.
- Re-examining the wisdom of writing EVERY day.
- Scheduling time in the afternoon to write, or pay bills, or shop (so that I have more bills to pay).
- Learning the art of using ‘drafts’ when blogging – so that I can have more than one I’m working on, and am not constantly working on the one that will be published.
- Sticking to that time.
These are just ideas, and I’m honestly not sure how long it will take me to apply, how long I will remember the goal… but it’s a good start to some good thinking.
This blog has been in the beginning stages for five months now. How many times can you change your template? Why no posts until now? Perfectionism. I think about blogging often… just like I think about dusting. But then I quickly fill my plate with expectations of perfection followed with a second plate of fear of disappointing…. others, others expecations and preconceived notions, myself.
So let me begin my public blog experience by saying that this will be imperfect writing, inconsistent writing, sometimes irreverant writing, and if you think I’m doing it for anyone but myself, you are mistaken. I do hope that some will enjoy whatever I end up writing about. But I am not writing a family history. I am not writing a treatise on parenting or homeschooling. I am not writing about how to survive your first year as a church planter, or how to be a better wife to an extraverted extravert. Although, I’m sure all of this will come up.
I am making the fifteen minutes to post my first blog today because of two friends, mainly, and my ever faithful husband. Thanks for starting your own blog, Elisa. When I grow up I want to be like you. Robbi, when we were talking about roles last night, ‘writer’ was the last thing on my mind. When you described me that way, you simulataneously took the wind from my sails, and filled them up with fresh air. Marc, you’ve been telling me that this is part of me for as long as I’ve known. If everyone could have even just one of one you three friends in their lives…. gutsy, freedom, vision, color.