I stopped writing.
Oh sure, I’m writing right now, but I mean really written, more than just here or there. I think about it a lot; I have great ideas for exciting new ventures in writing, and plans to get me started.
But I haven’t done it. In fact, I’m judiciously avoiding it. The writing space I created at home overflows with craft items and unopened mail. My laptops are buried under papers or even electric cords on my floor. I don’t even tweet more than once or twice a week.
What is my problem? I love to write. Scratch that. I obviously don’t.
What I love is writing. I love the outflow of a story when I’m in the middle of it, the ideas as they come off they page, the characters as they begin to come to life and let their voices be heard.
But I hate to write. The thought of sitting down (or sitting up straight) and putting effort into typing keys, finding the write words, figuring out where to start, where to stop, and what could possibly be of worth in between the two.
Sometimes I think it would be easier if I could do it the old-fashion way — with pencil and paper. But then I convince myself it’s so much slower, and basically double the effort since I’ll eventually have to type out what I’ve written. So I don’t bother.
I’m looking at the mountain, sizing up the mountain, determining what I need to get up over the mountain… without actually taking one step toward the mountain at all.
Mountains are work. And they are not very deceptive about it, either. You don’t look up at a mountain and think, “Great! I can coast to the finish line from here on out!” Mountains loom. It’s their thing.
So really, all my effort to determine my effort without actually putting any effort into it does not conquer the mountain. Only conquering the mountain… conquers the mountain. One footstep, one keystroke. Another step, another word. Inch by inch, line by line.
One step can conquer a mountain. As long as the other necessary steps have already been taken. So instead of looking for a way to arrive at the top of the mountain, or imagining what it will be like when I’m there. I need to take the first necessary step. And then the next one. And the one after that… (Feel free to join me anytime.)