I took a day off from writing yesterday and I was watching the heavens and waiting for the lightning to strike all day. For the past five or six months I have been requiring myself to write and post daily, but yesterday I didn’t make it. I know myself. If I break a streak, I have been known to give up on it, so I was being very careful to post. Some days it was a stretch to find something to write about, but that was part of the effort required: to examine what was going on around me and discover something to focus on.
So now that the streak is broken, what to do? Well, I was having a hard time coming up with a post today, too. I had already broken my promise to myself. What would one day more matter? No one would care anyway – no one but me, that is. With that realization, I stilled myself enough to notice that the thing at the heart of today was that I had not written and posted yesterday. What better thing for me to analyze, then?
Why didn’t I post? I could have found some time and energy to do so, even though I played trumpet at three Easter services and had a long, leisurely, luxurious brunch out with family after. I could have found something to write about from my pile of half-formulated posts in my pending file. I thought about doing so a number of times, as I went through my day, with various degrees of concern. Earlier in the day, I felt anxious about not having already written something to have ready. After all, I knew last week that the day would be busy. Later on, though, when there actually was time to sit down and think, I felt very peaceful about it. I was happy, and content, and fulfilled. Anything I would have written would have been forced. I gave myself permission to skip a day, even though it meant breaking a streak.
So here I am, back on the horse again. No less happy, but still enjoying writing, and sharing, and most of all, the act of examining my world.