If I Write Daily

Yesterday I promised someone that for a week to ten days I will write daily.  If I don't get to it during the day, I will do it before bed.

This came about because I was saying how I have been having trouble sleeping.  My listener asked what I think about when I'm awake in the night, and I said that I think about what I'm not doing during the day.  If I haven't been writing then I think about that.  I said that I need to be writing every day, even if only for a few minutes.

We didn't assign any number of minutes to my next week of daily writing, nor what form it should take. I'm not sure, yet, if the type of writing matters with regards to my sleep situation.

My writing dabbles take many forms.  Here on this blog; in a journal that has become mostly about Aaron, and a sort of anything goes, to do list, wish list, ideas list Moleskin.

I have a garden log and notebook, and a cooking/baking notebook.  I also have a Listography book.

On and off I have been writing more formally about losing Aaron.

What I really mean, though, when I say I'm not writing is not showing up here, or in my journal or to document my experience of missing Aaron.

My Moleskin and other notebooks are like sketchbooks to me.  The bones, the skeleton.  They serve the purpose of organization, of a starting point, a reference or reminder of something to look up or not to forget.

The other spaces are for fleshing out, elaborating, turning into prose, taking an idea to it's end, like a breath in yoga.

Starting is good, exciting, easy.  It's a hope and a spark with no commitment.  Finishing is hard, sometimes plodding and discouraging, often without a clear direction.  It's a big commitment to show up, to try to say something, to attempt to make connection.

Hopefully my snoozes will come, but please not until about 10:00 or 11:00 p.m.  That would be just fine.