(no subject)
I got hit with one of those tiny groundbreaking personal epiphanies this morning.
For the past year or so, I've been feeling guilty off and on that I haven't done any real writing "practice" -- no diligent dedicated 2 hours (or whatever) to just jotting stuff. My writing was suffering as a result, I was afraid. And, there is some truth to that.
But somehow I've been punishing myself for not writing at all. I called myself a writer -- where was my writing? Where were my notes? I was frittering my time away doing other things, why wasn't I writing?
And this morning I was in a state of flagellating myself about this a bit again, looking at all the things I did with my time instead; and I was chiding myself for what I think one of my biggest time-sucks is, reading and discussion on the Metafilter.com blog. I needed to cut down on that, I told myself. I need to write for a change rather than wasting time on -
And then it hit me.
Why the hell was I thinking I wasn't writing, when writing is the very way you participate on Metafilter?
I still know I definitely need to cut back on that; I've been thinking a lot lately about having to do the kind of "only I see it" practicing that helps you find stuff. There's something to be said about letting things sit in your own space and your own echo chamber a while first, rather than putting everything out in the world from the initial get-go. Let yourself sit with it first. And I don't do that enough -- instead, I've been spontaneously writing things down on Metafilter's discussion threads.
But that is still writing. I actually have been doing practice writing for the past year, it's just over on a web site for everyone to see.
Defintely still something I need to change. But it's good to know that the habit I need to correct isn't one of sloth, it's instead one of....exhibitionism.
For the past year or so, I've been feeling guilty off and on that I haven't done any real writing "practice" -- no diligent dedicated 2 hours (or whatever) to just jotting stuff. My writing was suffering as a result, I was afraid. And, there is some truth to that.
But somehow I've been punishing myself for not writing at all. I called myself a writer -- where was my writing? Where were my notes? I was frittering my time away doing other things, why wasn't I writing?
And this morning I was in a state of flagellating myself about this a bit again, looking at all the things I did with my time instead; and I was chiding myself for what I think one of my biggest time-sucks is, reading and discussion on the Metafilter.com blog. I needed to cut down on that, I told myself. I need to write for a change rather than wasting time on -
And then it hit me.
Why the hell was I thinking I wasn't writing, when writing is the very way you participate on Metafilter?
I still know I definitely need to cut back on that; I've been thinking a lot lately about having to do the kind of "only I see it" practicing that helps you find stuff. There's something to be said about letting things sit in your own space and your own echo chamber a while first, rather than putting everything out in the world from the initial get-go. Let yourself sit with it first. And I don't do that enough -- instead, I've been spontaneously writing things down on Metafilter's discussion threads.
But that is still writing. I actually have been doing practice writing for the past year, it's just over on a web site for everyone to see.
Defintely still something I need to change. But it's good to know that the habit I need to correct isn't one of sloth, it's instead one of....exhibitionism.