Ancillary Benefits
On my inaugural jaunt into the world of publishing, the literary agent I contacted said she wasn’t sure what my collection of stories (that ultimately became “Rooted to Rise”) was, but she did believe it was something. While we were trying to get a handle on that, she said I needed to get some of my writing “out into the world” before she shopped a book. She implored, “I need for you to do two things: Get active on social media and start writing a weekly blog.”
One outta two ain’t bad.
To date I have published over 200 blogs, religiously posting every Tuesday morning as if I might not get paid unless I do. Four years of keeping ideas on my phone . . . looking for topics under rocks and in the tall grass . . . scrambling, occasionally, on Sunday evenings with a brain as blank as the page on my computer screen. The mining never stops. Neither does the landing. Good stuff finds me as often as I find it because the windows and the doors stay open and I’m still enough to recognize it when it touches down. I began the practice of blogging because somebody told me it could help me “win” (i.e., sell books across the world.) While it certainly hasn’t done that, it has helped me win a different game. It’s given me a framework for staying grounded in the most important things.
Here are a few of the ah-ha awarenesses the habit has given me:
It’s become my accountability partner.
When you have a job, if you don’t do it, you don’t get paid. And, subsequently, you don’t have a job for very long. Consequences loom when external expectations are not met. But in the absence of a contract or a boss or some sort of outside agreement, if we don’t do what we said we would, who cares? Only us, of course, (the one who, ironically, matters most of all.) Still, without goading, the odds of slacking are high.
Even for the most disciplined, without tangible repercussion, consistent habits are hard to keep. Who among us hasn’t started a diet without telling anybody so that if we cheat, we won’t get hassled? Keeping what we set out to do “a secret” is the safest, surest way to never get it done.
The Tuesday morning post expectation is what keeps me writing on Wednesday. And Thursday. And on Saturday afternoon. It gently pokes me daily, and because of it the pump stays primed. Some days, the blog deadline is like an evil ogre giving me the side eye. Some days, when I am sick or busy or both, it feels heartless, cold and dumb. Some days, I resent it pushing me in the back. But I want to write well. And writing well requires writing regularly. So, the weekly blog has become my buddy. The partner who won’t let me off the hook.
It makes me finish.
Writing, like lots of other creative endeavors, never really has an end. It’s an “ever onward almost,” to borrow Sarah Lewis’ s term. A piece could be tighter. It could be stronger. A different word might add a nuance that shifts a sentence just a tad. The never-ending opportunity to polish and spit-shine rarely goes away. But a ship date gives me a reason to declare, “It’s done.” That doesn’t mean a piece is ever perfect. But it does mean I can’t just let it linger. Writing has a tendency to float. We like to keep it to ourselves until it’s “ready.” But what does “ready” really mean? Often, it’s just an excuse to continue to tinker. Which brings me to gift number three. . . .
It makes me summon courage.
As we get older, it gets easier and easier to play it safe. I walk farther away from the dangerous edge than I used to. I don’t do flips off the board into the pool, and I no longer dive headfirst after a ball (mostly because I would have to get up). Cautious seems a smarter more pragmatic way to live. And yet, courage that’s not called upon goes dormant. Like a muscle, it needs to be ignited. Or else when we really need it, we might not be able to wake it up.
Beyond that, displays of audacity make us feel alive in ways that swimming in the shallow end never ever will. Tackling challenges with zero guarantees gives us a chance to build grit. To grow confidence. To fail and then learn. To see possibilities that aren’t in our purview from the safety of the shore. Courage is essential. It not only gets us through the muck, it grants us access to the extraordinary.
And finally . . .
It’s become the forcing function that keeps me anchored in substance.
Because I have committed to post a blog, I notice. Without consciously looking for significance, I find it. My antenna for what matters most stays up. The Tuesday deadline keeps me from skirting along the surface day after day after day where numbness lurks waiting to draw yet another victim into sleepwalking mode. The twists under the turns catch my attention. Things that seem incongruent lure me in for a closer look. I see so much good that I’d probably miss if the need to do some pondering on paper wasn’t hovering every week.
This isn’t why I did it, but it’s why I’m glad I do.
P.S. Down the Rabbit Hole