As you may have noticed, posts have slowed down. Well, stopped. There are a few reasons for this – my writing habits have been interrupted by getting distracted by holidays and other projects, by my usual writing space being temporarily unavailable, and subsequently by a lack of interest in writing and confidence in my writings being interesting. These things tend to cascade: Lack of habit leads to lack of confidence, lack of confidence leads to lack of interest, lack of interest leads to lack of energy, and so forth, creating a general malaise. I paused the Patreon for a month to provide an opportunity to catch back up a bit, but that month has expired now and I’ve hardly caught up at all.
These things are usually temporary, but it will take a little extra effort this time to make them so, since I have let so many habits lapse. Venting posts like this serve the dual purpose of explaining delays and of easing myself back into the habits that have eroded – as well as, I hope, helping others with the same struggles feel a little companionship. These posts also tend to draw out ideas about where to go in the future, to shift me out of habits of frustration and recrimination and back towards a mindset of problem-solving and excitement — if only to provide a pleasing conclusion to what otherwise tend to be rather dour essays.
I don’t usually post the ones where I can’t figure a conclusion.
I’m still struggling a bit to figure out what’s blocking me and how to navigate it, but in the short term I know that I can make things easier for myself, set things up to more readily accommodate a return, by simply moving habits back into place. It is a useful instinct to tidy a space whenever you’re not happy in it — it may not solve the problem, but it will at least make it better organized and more approachable. I’m trying to apply the same logic to my mental process: If I can’t make myself feel fulfilled and productive, like I’m moving towards a definite end-goal, I can at least make myself feel active, in motion, rather than immobile and waiting for the world to turn around me.
I’m approaching the rough scheduling I’ve used in the past, the list-making and chores and maintenance, the framework of a life. I sit here and I try to write, even when the words are repellant, unsatisfactory, imperfect, inaccurate. I considered stopping the Patreon for another month so I didn’t have to feel guilty that anyone anywhere is paying for second-rate words, discards, so I didn’t have to scrutinize myself so closely.
There are times I envy those who know they can do no wrong for the big perfect lie they’ve branded into their brains.