…so I can pull some weeds.
Here I am sitting outside and typing. I always wanted to learn to type. Somewhere along the way I learned how to do it. There may have been some view of radical persons typing on a city street or something crazy, but forty years ago no one was envisioning exactly this.
After doing a little research on the subject — like it even matters — I’ve told myself that three to five hundred words sounds like a good amount for a blog post.
So this is where I stand on the blog posting front. I have a list of over twenty topics, each suitable for its own post or multiple posts. The topics correspond to four categories of subjects that I want to communicate with the world about. And each already has a page set up to include the subjects and topics.
It’s so hard for me to get started much of the time. The problem seems especially bad when I’m faced with some creative endeavor. The more I want to do it and the stronger I feel the need to do it, the harder it can be sometimes.
I actually get a little dizzy when I start to think about taking those creative steps. After all this time, after all those tries I still struggle every time it comes around. As I write that sentence I realize that it might be a good idea to tell myself that it will always be that way and I have to just keep moving through it. I tell myself that these feelings are what lets me know that what I’m trying to do is worth doing in the first place.
So just accept the sign as some sort of providential message and take a step. Take a step and trip. Take a step and fall. Take a step and follow it with another. Take a step and move forward. That’s what matters. The only failure is failing to even try. Everything else is either success or lessons.
Forty years ago we weren’t thinking of sitting here next to our muddy garden and pecking away on a device that looked like this. There were some pretty compact portable typewriters back then, so portable that you could even set it in your lap. But then there were the reams of paper you had to wag around. Well, maybe that provided balance while you were walking – typewriter in one hand, a thousand sheets or so of paper in the other. But what about the wastepaper basket? Were you supposed to just wear that on your head like a giant oversized fez?
The laptop can go anywhere. The blog can go everywhere. Or maybe it’s the other way around. It doesn’t matter however you line it up, at least not today. I set out once again to work in a way and a place that was different to me and to do a certain amount of work just to see what it felt like and I have made it.