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Dead End

Photo by Gabriel Soto on Unsplash

I sat down to write at 10pm, it is now 12:20 am and I have nothing. I’ve dosed off multiple times because I am so tired. When I committed to this writing challenge, I knew it would require that I manage my time more effectively but what that has ended up looking like is me staying up till 1, 2 and sometimes 3 in the morning to finish my writing for that day. I think it is catching up with me. I am not getting enough sleep. I am exhausted. I find myself asking the question, Is it worth it? To what extent might this lack of sleep affect my ability to carry out my other commitments each day? Is the writing giving me something that I couldn’t get otherwise? If the writing is shallow or just something shared to complete the assignment, is that worth it? I am writing these thoughts hoping to trigger other thoughts that I could shape into a story and it has occurred to me that maybe this is the story. Here I am asking myself if I should keep the commitment I made to myself or if I should just go to sleep and sort it out later. How close to being like life is this situation that I am in right now. Life is facing decisions where we have to choose between keeping commitments or just doing what we really want to do. I thought that I’d be able to concoct a piece of writing today that was thoughtful and illuminating and each time I’ve begun, I end up at a dead end. Now I’m thinking that I never should have committed to do this in the first place. I have not worked out since the writing challenge began. Skipping exercise pisses me off and makes me regret having ever decided to do this challenge. I am working myself up to quitting. The more I think about this writing challenge, the more I wonder why I decided to do it. I’m missing out on sleep. I’m missing out on the benefits of exercise. I’m missing out on family time. I’m writing slop like this. What the hell was I thinking? I was thinking of the amazing warmth I experience when an idea comes through me and I express that idea through writing. I was thinking of the clarity that comes often after I write. I was thinking of how I will read something I wrote and cannot believe that it came through me. I was thinking of the many times that while the words were being tapped out on my laptop keyboard, I became overwhelmed with gratefulness as tears flowed down my cheeks. I was thinking of the occasional encouraging comment from a reader of my writing. I was thinking of the feeling that comes from happening upon connections and realizations and understandings as a result of writing. Every piece of writing won’t be a masterpiece or create feelings of majesty and wonder and awe. That is why I’ve been losing sleep. It’s taking me 2 and 3 hours to get something down on paper that I want to put out in the world and I don’t have time for that…. unless I am indeed creating majestic, wonderful and awesome work - then I would stay up all night. I am stuck on the idea that everything I do or write or say should be done well. It should be powerful and impactful and tonight nothing lent itself to that. I resign myself to accept that this is the best I could do this time.

I remain grateful!

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