The Project - Day 9

I’m hoping this is kind of like trying to build an exercise habit (something else I need to return to) and the second stage of total crap is really just a stage before a breakthrough to greater ease and momentum. I’m also hoping I don’t wake up drooling on my keyboard at 3am this time around.

I’m a bit in awe of people who do this for real, all the time. One of the most powerful voices in my head is the one that says “You’re serious with this shit? You are boring yourself even thinking these thoughts, much less putting them to print.” How does the serious blogger or journal writer get to the place where they think, okay, I have something to say that’s worthy of regular expression? Or is it just compulsion, or discipline? I think the only prayer for me to every keep this up would be under the compulsion category.

I remember my sister saying once that she knew when she hadn’t been running enough because when she hadn’t hit the pavement in a while she got cranky and out of sorts. I do sometimes feel like my brain has become an overloaded sponge that needs squeezing and at those times, writing is my release valve. I suppose it is a related impulse, although I imagine compulsion only ever expands to skill when paired with discipline. I’ve had moments of what might be called discipline--I went through a write a poem a day phase for one reasonably long stretch--but in general I am a lazy pain in the ass. I hang on to my thoughts for time on end and then suddenly when it’s time to again wring out the brain sponge I want pithy thoughts and trenchant analysis on demand.

Is it too much to ask? To be able to translate my fascinating personality to the written world? (Apparently fatigue also sets the sarcasm meter way out of whack as well.)

Seriously though, I am hoping that through this stab at the discipline beyond the compulsion I will find something. Some what, I don’t know. In an ideal world, this will lead to clarity perhaps? A friend of mine once told me that I “processed by speaking”, meaning that if I could talk about a problem long enough I could figure out how to solve it. I suppose now I am trying to process by writing, not just to solve a problem, but to identify the problem. Not that there is a problem. I don’t think so. Maybe. Do I have a problem?

More to the point I want questions. I know usually people are looking for answers, but I’m not there yet. I want the questions I need that will help focus me in the new direction my life is taking. I need questions that define what of me is changing and what will always remain the same. Answers are endings, I’m looking for some new beginnings.

That’s it for today I think. I still find myself more than a little boring, but I still seem to be sticking around, so I must also be slightly attached to myself.