It’s not like I haven’t been writing; I mean, I sometimes do it for a job (freelance, mostly gibberish, nothing sexy), I sometimes do it before bed so I can get some sleep without the wandering thought gymnastics of an unmeditated mind soiling my tranquility (more on journaling soon) and I’m often scrawling random notes to myself, body-slamming memory loss by listing my to-do list as if extracting them from the maelstrom of my brain and committing them to inked bullet points (always pen, always paper) might direct my otherwise scattergun approach to the day. But I haven’t blogged; I haven’t published anything externally, outside my cocoon.
So I’ve made a commitment to get back to writing for the sake of writing; to see if I give myself enough space something cathartic for me or useful for you might materialise into existence. It’s a loose commitment at best, I’ve made some notes, I have plenty I’d like to explore but if the last twelve months are anything to go by then anything is possible.
It’s been a busy year; hard in lots of ways, very scary too. I’ve lost a significant income, sold my house, nearly bought a boat (to live on), bought a house that needed rebuilding with a girl I’d only known for a few months, worried that my brain was degenerating from a stroke I had 15 years ago, lost my dog, nearly lost my teenage son to drugs, got engaged, convinced myself (I’m still not unconvinced) I have bowel cancer and started a new paddle boarding school in the town I moved to with the girl I just met. I’ve learned, cried, worried, laughed, thought it was the end, discovered it was the beginning and at 45 years of age learned more about love than I ever thought possible.
Predicting failure aside, I’m aiming for once a week. That’s aiming high for me so if that becomes once a fortnight then I’d be happy with that. I’ve no interest in overwhelming anybody with fatuous, self-indulgent crap that only serves to release demons, the notepad by my bed is for that. My commitment to me is to just write, my commitment to this blog is that it should be useful. Not instructional or preachy, you can find the how to’s anywhere, I’m more interested in the why’s. If you understand why you should try something then you’re more likely to give it a go.
If I stop learning, I start to get old. It doesn’t matter how weird life gets, I know it gets all sorts of weird for you too, so long as the good and the bad teach you something then you grow. Learning and growing, learning and growing.
So this is as self-indulgent as it will get (I kind of half promise). From now on, useful witterings only.
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