I open the browser to write, then I open the photo app. I scroll through some pictures. And then I open my text messaging app as I suddenly remembered all the texts that I forgot to reply to (I just remembered another one.) And then when there is nowhere left to go. No other distraction train to ride– then I begrudgingly start typing.

I usually start with how I am feeling. Or maybe how I have procrastinated that day. Or how I do not know what to write about. And will I ever know? What am I even doing? Why am I even here? If I don’t have anything to say then why am I hellbent on making myself say something?

And then I take a deep breath, and remember that regardless of how I feel about writing today, regardless of whether it is good, useful, dumb, or embarrassing, regardless of all that– at the end of the day, I will be publishing some words that I wrote.

So, all of this argument, worry, procrastination and resistance– while it is there, and I greet it and I notice it. It does not change anything.

Do I worry that my commitment to publishing everyday sometimes gets in the way of what I actually want to communicate? Yes. But that is an argument for another day. I’m working on believing that you find the work while doing the work, not by thinking about it.

I also know that it is more difficult for me to make meaning of something I am currently doing, compared to something I have done. So while doing this right now feels difficult and weird and forceful, I have a kind of faith that having done it will feel different than that.

Tbd, I guess.