I wrote this a couple of years ago. At the time I had every intention of posting more than I have – that’s not to say I haven’t been writing regularly, it’s more of an acknowledgement that I haven’t been posting much.
That being said, not much has changed since – sentiment wise – and I can’t imagine much will change – action wise – in the near future.
I had a short conversation with an old friend this evening about putting yourself out there – putting things that normally exist only in a journal or in your head – in the wild for other people to read, think about, criticize, or actually gain from. That’s a scary proposition that most people don’t get past.
Sure we all post on social media, but, in large, that’s not quite the same thing as taking the time to put together a well thought out, meaningful, or sincere collection of thoughts or feelings – considering most of our social media interaction occurs from a phone while we’re sitting in traffic, waiting in line, or bored in a restaurant. We’ve developed a collective attention span that’s no longer than the line to get a Big Mac or $5 cup of coffee – but that’s another rant altogether…
I’m well aware of the fact I’ve let my writing get away from me.
Writing has been a part of me as long as I can remember – be it serious reflection of moments in time or simple silliness as a result of too much coffee or video games – it’s always been there when I was ready.
But I’ve let it go – even when I had ideas or opinions or any sort of ridiculous notion that popped into my head. For instance, I could fill a small book with my thoughts on shaving razors, weed eaters, or those stupid looking flat billed baseball caps.
I didn’t stop writing because of anything specific – I just went all lazy about it. Life moved me in a different direction and, over time, I just figured I didn’t have the time – and if you have the time to stop and say “I figure I don’t have time..” well, you’ve got time, you’re just bluffing. It occurs to me that if you’ve truly not got time for something, you don’t even realize you don’t have time – it just goes away..
Regardless, this isn’t about you. It’s about me and my 5 year self imposed writers block and how I let it happen and why I think it was a terrible idea…
It seems the everyday things of the everyday have eclipsed the little things of the everyday, that, truth be told, tend to put the everyday things of the everyday into the proper perspective.
It’s far to easy to become entangled in the enormity of the big picture and lose sight of the intimacy and special moments of the little picture.
I’m not suggesting ignoring the big picture – because in the end, the big picture is the termination point of all the little pictures – but I believe the constant focus, the seemingly never ending push toward realizing that big picture (whatever that big picture may be) results in an ignorance of what the big picture truly is – a composite of the little moments which were looked over in haste while speeding toward the perceived goal of the big picture – only to realize much too late the focus was on the wrong thing.
Arriving at the destination with no idea how the trip went.
Having said that, and having thought on this for some time, I realized there are numerous small moments – however fleeting or trivial – in my everyday I was neglecting to regard.
Countless thoughts, conversations, ideas – things which simply found themselves in one ear and then sliding out the other.
I realized I wanted to start saving these.
Hence all this talk of writing…