Try, Try Again

The other day my daughter asked me why I don’t blog anymore. I guess it’s because life is so busy. And sometimes even the things we really enjoy can become a chore. I am resistant to tell even myself that I am going to start doing something regularly for fear that I won’t follow through. The impending failure is too much. I have so much self doubt, my ability to cope with failure is all taken up by my job. I don’t have room to disappoint myself too.

I enjoy writing; I always have. I’ve always wanted to write a book. I still have a promise lingering out there in the universe to my 9th grade English teacher, Mr. Hamel, to dedicate my first book to him. But I write a lot for work – nothing therapeutic or funny (ok, maybe sometimes my sarcastic brand of humor works its way in), or in any way documents my life experiences, but the need to put words on a page is fulfilled.

 I didn’t really ask Lil about why she was asking; I seem to recall we were laughing at something that her brother said. I suppose it’s because even though she finds it embarrassing at times, she likes that I write about her and her brother. When she was younger I wouldn’t let her read what I wrote. It wasn’t for them. It was for me, and for those of my friends who felt like connecting with me, sharing in my joys, and in my frustrations. Now, I would let her read it, but she’s no longer got any access to the internet (that’s a story for another day). Reading back on a few of the posts, I’m glad I wrote them. They provide a memory, more accurately told because of the timeliness of capturing the moment. When that moment may otherwise fade – the details evaporating as new memories fill their space – it’s here in black and white to look back at and laugh about.

 Now I’m encouraging her to write her own blog. I don’t have any expectation that she will become the next blogger phenom. Like me, English and writing come naturally to her. Written words on the page help her to clear her head, organize her thoughts, and express her feelings in a way that she can’t express otherwise. Her unique perspective could also help others (something I hope for in my musings here).

 With 2 other bloggers in the house, I want to renew my intention to capture moments in writing. I’m not a resolution kind of girl. But I do reflect – on what I’ve accomplished, where I could’ve done better, on the goals I have, and on how I wish to spend my time. Intention in my line of work means everything. And while the road to hell may be paved with them, I’m headed there anyway so why not intend to write again?