The words are all there, in my head. I write and rewrite, edit, scratch out, erase the words, but it all happens in my head. When I sit down, the words have all disappeared, and I’m left with eyes open wide and a frown on my face.
Writing is difficult. I never, truly realized just how much discipline it takes to sit and form coherent thoughts onto paper, especially with the constant push-pull from other priorities. Life is demanding. Even laundry and dishes can be just as important a task, if not downright imperative, as turning in that strategy memo at 11:59 pm.
The hardest part of writing may be because, for the purpose of this blog, I’m trying to recall and recapture memories distant and faded. With the hustle-bustle of every day life, holding onto memories has become something slight out of grasp. I’m trying my hardest to embrace life, to experience the moment, but as one event spirals into another, the limitations of time forces me to forego reflecting on those moments past.
How are you supposed to hold onto the past when the present is so…present? These days, I find that going to bed at 1 am and waking up at 5 am is still not enough time for me to do all the things I want to do in a day. And it’s not that my life is so busy, or the things I’m doing are that pressing, but it’s just that everything is amazing and everyone is wonderful. (Chuckle.)
My self-entitled “Summer of Self-Incubation” is almost half over. I keep finding new things to work on (go figure…), but this blog has just re-emerged on the top of the list. Memories are important – even if I can’t keep them all.