It’s official. My daily blogging routine has been broken. I was pretty good with it all through March, then April happened.
Not that the change of month had anything to do with it.
But what was it then that broke the routine? I’d say it’s just me. But that’s not really saying anything.
Let me get back to the subject I wanted to write about on 6 April: duty and flexibility.
You see, I started this blog as a commitment device: by publishing this daily blog, I pre-commit to writing every day. Even when I don’t have anything particularly interesting or valuable to write about. The task is to find something, and write.
I thought this would be a good way to practise my writing skills. And to make writing a regularity in my daily life. With the hope that, as the months – even years – go by, writing will come more naturally to me.
I still think it’s a good idea. I think it’s good for my writing. I think it’s good for me. Sometimes you go through days without really looking at them, at what you’ve done. And writing this at the end of the day forces me to stop pushing forward, and take stock.
Which is always a good thing.
I’ve been quite conflicted this past week about not keeping up with the blog on a daily basis. I wanted this to be a regular thing, a daily thing. I felt it was my duty to make it happen.
As you can see, this has not been the case this past week. Other things got in the way, and I’ve had to make choices. I’ve chosen social outings over blogging, French revision over blogging, sleep over blogging, and – there’s no point denying – aimlessly browsing the Internet over blogging.
I haven’t felt good about this. It feels like I’ve let my blog, my readers, but most of all myself down. I wanted to believe that I could keep this daily routine, that I could work my way around inconveniences, unforeseen circumstances.
That doesn’t appear to be the case. Or does it?
I mean, one must be flexible, right? If there’s only 24 hours in a day, and you wake up 3 hours later than usual, then something must give. And, for me, that something happens to be this blog.
Is it really so bad if I don’t manage to write every day? What is more important? This blog, my exams, exercise, seeing friends, or feeling good about myself?
I should just stop being conflicted about this, and accept the fact that I choose not to keep up with this blog on a daily basis. It’s not that I’m not able to, but I choose not to.
Because it is a choice.
Everything is a choice.
Just like me choosing to water the plants in the garden earlier today over revision. I can tell myself all I want that being outdoors is good for me, that stretching my legs in the garden is good for me, that it’s better than being cooped up in the house all day.
In the end, they’re nothing but excuses, useless justifications.
I made the choice, and I’ll have to live with the consequences, whatever they may be.
The same with this blog.
p.s. That wasn’t the most coherent of posts was it? Note to self: impose some QC next time.