I am faced with a quandary. I want to write. According to my own personally selected Word of the Year, DAILY, I need to write daily. This word was selected to support me in my desire to write.
I also need to exercise daily.
I need to learn something new daily.
I am not sure there is enough day in each day to allow me to do all I wish to do daily.
OR there may not be enough energy in me to do what I want to do every day. I am getting older.
At the end of the working day, sitting in front of my computer all day, I do not feel the energy or the urge to sit in front of my computer at home for an hour or two. (Would that be “urgenergy”? English changes every day).
My lovely wife wants me to visit with her, as she may have been alone and working hard all day at her art business, or on a painting. I am inclined to do this with her. I like visiting with my wife, she is an interesting person and I like her. Also there is the idea of making and eating supper. Some days she cooks and some days I cook, but we must both eat and that takes time. As does cleaning up after dinner. By the time all that is done, it is time to relax for a bit, with either a book or the Ijit Box (TV) We like movies and British TV dramas. Netflix lets us watch several episodes at a time. Without commercials.
And then it is time for bed.
I wonder how much of what I am experiencing is Resistance a la Steven Pressfield? Probably most, if not all of it.
A friend and fellow writer, told the story of working at a local paper and stopping his work each day at noon and writing a part of his novel over his lunch hour. He did this more or less faithfully every day, and at the end of a year had a complete first draft. He wrote on weekends too. Longer on weekends, but on the same project. He also did free-lance work to help pay the bills. That is amazing to me. That is commitment and a terrific work ethic. It is the ability to switch gears from doing “work writing” to doing the “Work of Writing”, and then switch gears back. Almost Every Day.
Commitment is hard. Work ethic is hard. Work ethic involves sitting down and starting. It might have been Neil Gaiman who said, “Writing isn’t hard. Sitting down to write is hard.”
Starting is hard. Sitting down and starting is really, really hard. There is a reason why the word “starting” sounds so much like the word “stuttering”. Words have to be pulled forth with effort. Fragments of concepts pr…pr…pr…pressed together. Fingers have to be taught where the keys are on the keyboard again. The idea machine needs a good firm kick to get it to cough up some icky hairballs of original thoughts.
Until you start working on something you really want to work on. Something you are pulled into by your muse. Something you come to love. The words flow, the ideas spark forth, fingers fly, paragraphs build and lo and behold, hours have gone by. Not such a great thing to happen at work, over lunchtime, because it is a wrench to stop. But better if it happens there than to not happen at all.
Ah! Maybe that is the thing to grab and concentrate on. Getting to that feeling, that flow, even for a short time, is better than not getting there at all, because there is “not enough time.”
So. I’ll fit in my workouts at noon. And also use that time to think about writing, or reading about writing (daily learning).
And I will fit in an hour of writing time someplace, in five minute pieces if I have to, over the course of the day.
I shall pick away at RESISTANCE, until it becomes resistance. Until it fades away. Until I overcome it.