Just keep writing

Taking up a joyful writing practice again

For some people, writing is pain. My brothers are like this, probably, and my husband — all gifted writers by any measure, but the proposal to write a novel or an article or a story is met with curled lips. “Why would I do that to myself?”

For me writing isn’t like that at all. For me, the act of writing or making anything really is more like hearing a song I love, or touching someone I love, or being out in nature. It’s a dopamine hit.

Maybe that is not true if I have to write something and don’t wanna, but most of the time having space to order my thoughts, to discover even what I think at all, to take care in expressing those ideas in the right order to be able to reach someone else — most of the time that feels like complete magic to me.

But it’s too easy for me to stop writing. I have had cycles where my commitment to write has outweighed my commitment to do anything else (to sleep or eat or exercise or take care of the house), where I would get up at 5am to write, or say no to hanging out with friends, or use chunks of my work day to put finishing touches on a story. I am not in one of those cycles today. I don’t want to sacrifice any of those things.

At the same time, I realize I am looking for more of a balance of all things. Of doing…