(This post is part of the 30 for 30 Challenge).
Somehow, I’ve managed to make a post everyday now for the last twenty days. Now, with ten posts remaining (including this one), I’m beginning to wonder how I’ll make it. Doubt is creeping in once again.
The act of writing is a decisively deliberate one – an activity that is all to easy to let pass us up in this mostly mindless daily toil we call “making a living”. This accepted necessity of human existence, at least for most of us, is a bulwark we must daily hurdle ourselves over (at some point or another) if ever we hope to achieve and/or maintain a creative balance in our lives. It’s a daily cycle, and the struggle is real.
Oh sure, I know I’ll make it to the end somehow, even if it means the posts will be shorter than originally intended. The end will come, at which point there will be much reflection on the days past, so I’ll spare you that for the moment. It just suddenly feels really hard to complete this assignment. Changes are afoot in my professional life, so it is possible I’m feeling a strain because of that.
I’ve begun to wonder what will come after this challenge is over. After all, I have probably posted more on this blog in the past twenty days than I have in the past two years combined. The path to beyond the next nine days is wholly uncertain at this point.
Apologies for the cathartic release here. It needed to happen this morning. Others can relate, I’m sure. John Steinbeck could, but he kept it private for a little while longer.