It’s been a month since I last wrote.
I’ve been thinking about this blog, what it is I want to say, and while I haven’t reached any certain conclusions, I do have some direction.
I’m recently inspired by an old blogging friend, Nathalie of Nothings & Everythings, and her endeavor to write every day for the next year. While I’m not nearly as ambitious, I intend to challenge myself to write every week for the next year, through the end of 2016. Nathalie aims for a minimum of 50 words a day. After giving it some thought, I’ve decided I’m capable of producing at least 3-5 paragraphs a week, or, at least 300-500 words regarding whatever happens to be on my mind.
Now, I’m not saying I intend to adhere to the standard five-paragraph essay format, thesis statement and all, but I am saying that I intend to select a topic and delve into it with a minimum amount of thought.
This week’s theme would appear to be the complete degradation of my writing skills. This is the result of several factors, namely that I stopped writing in 2008 when I went to work full-time for the government. My work kept me busy. My office was located an hour away from my house, and my 9-10 hours of work each day were spent writing documents that were factually-based and edited for brevity. After a full day at work, the evening hours with my family were precious, and the last thing I wanted was to spend more time alone, typing in front of a monitor.
I left my government job three years ago, in 2012, with no regrets. I created Terrapin Crossing around that time, but struggled to find my voice. In its original form, the blog existed as a record of my health and fitness pursuits. It seemed an easy thing, certainly as I got more involved with running, but it was never really personal, just a reflection of what was going on around me. In many ways, my Twitter account has evolved to mimic this feel.
I realized over the past month that the quieting of my writer’s voice is related to the root of my personal-not-personal Twitter account: Fear.
I can’t identify for you who or what exactly inspires this fear, but I can tell you there is a certain amount of risk in truly speaking one’s mind in an open environment. I fear casual criticism from the random stranger and I fear exposure of my personal self to people from my past: old friends, family, colleagues, and the like, with whom I haven’t spoken for years, but now are provided a window in without having established a re-connection or permission to do so.
At the end of it all, it is my choice and my risk, and I do understand that. Still, the fear remains and it is my challenge to conquer it over the next 52 weeks.
Word Count: 484
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