for nearly two months now i've been journaling every night. in two journals. one is for gratitude and the other is the day. one is a journal that i will have to replace in the coming months and the other is a five year journal. you probably don't care about my journals, but they come to mind because i've written in them every night. i haven't missed a night in almost two months. and that, this, is big for me.
i am not the best at keeping habits.
and i find it fascinating which habits i am able to hold on to and which i am not and when and how they come and go. a month ago, i worked out three times a week like clockwork. but i fell off that habit train and have been trying to get back on because i rediscovered my abs last month and i like them and i want them to stick around for a bit. three months ago i was sooo good about flossing every night and taking my vitamins every morning. and now i can't even remember if i took my vitamins this morning and while i know i flossed last night, i know i didn't floss the night before because i went to bed finishing a really big glass of wine.
so why is it that i have been able to write in my journals every night and blog every day for at least the last 30 days without a problem?
yeah, guys. today is the last day of nablopomo. 30 days of blogging done and done. you're welcome...
okay, back to the post.
why was i able to keep up these writing habits?
i don't know.
i do know that i've enjoyed these writing habits. i suppose writing is the way i make sense of the world. i don't like confrontation or debate in part because it usually takes place in a speaking mode, not a writing mode. i can't gather my thoughts as quickly or concisely as others can and i often find myself giving up because i feel like i can't keep up with their verbal repartee. but give me written words, give me an email, give me a letter, give me a few moments to jot down my ideas and there i can express myself. there i can let you in on how i am feeling. there i find myself.
and so maybe during this time of topsy-turviness, the habits that stick are the ones that bring me back to myself, the ones that help me back sense of the world and my place in it, the ones that nourish my voice.
much of my life these days is writing. in the next three weeks, i have to finish a full-length play, start and finish bake-off full-length play, write a history paper, complete a written essay exam, write and perform a short piece, and write a theory paper...which wouldn't be so bad if, like, i did nothing else. why my schedule is more full these next three weeks than the last three months, i don't know. i don't want to talk about it any more except to say that, yes, my days these days are filled with words. and solitude. i spent the last few days working and spent most, if not all, of my days alone. and writing.
alone and writing.
maybe these habits have been good for me because they are furthering my comfort with being alone and writing. maybe these habits have found a home in my day because when i am doing them i notice how the solitude is helpful. i notice how it is productive. i notice how the quiet of the apartment doesn't feel sad, but instead feels necessary. how moving through the world on my own feels comfortable and right for now. how focusing on how i am doing versus how someone else is doing is exactly what i should be doing.
i don't know.
all i know is that part of me is sad that i don't have to come here to write tomorrow. that this habit may have only been a means to an end. a way to come back to myself daily during a time when i really needed words, my words, to get me through. part of me is sad that this daily habit may need to fall away, while the journaling continues and other habits, like meditating and exercising, find their way back.
don't worry. when i say fall back, i mean like take two days between posts.
can't get rid of me that easily...
anyway, thanks for reading this month, guys. i appreciate knowing that i am not just writing out into the void. i appreciate knowing that some of the posts spoke/speak to you. i appreciate knowing how not alone i am.