Morning Meandering - Facing the blank page

 I find it funny - sometimes in a "are you kidding me?!" kind of way - that I have all these thoughts and ideas and plans for writing as I do my morning connections, and wash the dishes, and take a shower, and what have you. But then I face the blank empty page and the things I was so sure I was going to write - the thoughts which would not get out of the way when I was trying to do other things - simply vanish. Name on the tip of my tongue, put Baby back into the corner, aww shucks nothing to see here, gone.

And sometimes, if I can remember what I was feeling so passionate about, I can get the words and the conviction back. They flow through righteously. 

And sometime, I continue to stare at the page, and then just start writing something else, hoping it'll be worthy, hoping it's something I actually want to say. 

I've been doing my best (and I've been doing a decent job of it) to just put the words out there, you know? Write it down and then let it go. But honestly, for every post that gets published, there is at least one unpublished, probably unfinished, post. In fact, I'd started a similar writing on this a month or two ago...

"So, I like to think that this is normal for any writer - many writers? maybe even just people in general. The number of blog drafts is at least double the number of blog posts. Thoughts I started, but either couldn't reach a satisfying conclusion, or couldn't figure out what I was trying to say. In some ways they're taunting - in that whole, I thought you were just going to post stuff and not care if it has a relevant or impactful message? Right? Huh? it's like I'm judging myself for judging my writing. But it's not really judging - it's evaluating? It's like NOT blurting out every thought that passes through my mind."

And as I write this and format it and get ready to read this, I kind of lose interest. Because it's not what I really wanted to say, and it's triggering a lot of other thoughts - like cycles and other people. 

But it did lead me to editing/publishing something I'd previously written and left simmering. And there was such a feeling of rightness, or readiness, of finality after I added a couple more lines to it. 

And then a week later (it is at least a week later since I started this), I am able to reconnect to read it and say - well, it may not be what I was chasing when I started, but I think this pretty much sums up what I really want to say about it now.

And I breathe in. And I breathe out. 

And I hit the publish button.