When I started my blog about 15 months ago, I was excited to try something new in an attempt to reignite whatever creativity I felt I had left in me. I was obsessed with checking the number of page hits. I celebrated 250 hits, 500 hits, 1000 hits and more. My heart skipped a beat every time I saw there was a comment waiting for me to approve. I smiled when I saw that someone, somewhere, far away, had taken the time to find my blog, even if it made little sense to me how someone in the Ukraine or Malaysia could have found me. (Probably in an attempt to steal my identity, but I’m trying not to be cynical.)
When I started my blog about 15 months ago, I was a different man than I am today. I was looking – no, starved – for attention, and I had this convoluted dream that someone would discover my blog, offer me a job as a writer, and make me famous. I was desperate to find myself, my voice, and I thought that writing would help bring me back to life. And every blog I wrote felt like a real accomplishment, even though I wasn’t necessarily writing what I really was feeling at the time. It was about celebrating getting something done.
And then my life changed.
So my silence over the past few months hasn’t been so much because I’m busy (which I am), or that I haven’t had things to say (because I do). It’s not because I’m sad (which I’m not), or don’t make the time (which I could). It’s because I’m happy.
I’ve stopped obsessing over page view statistics and haven’t checked those for months. I’ve stopped feeling obligated to writing because I want to keep my readers’ attention. I’m not craving the attention or notoriety. I harbor no misplaced dreams of becoming a writer. (Okay, maybe I haven’t completely given up on that potential, but I’m not giving up my day job in the process.) And so I took a break from writing because I didn’t feel that I had to write.
And now I want to.
So is it just like getting on a bike? I don’t know. Does it come back as easily? No promises, but I’m certainly going to try. I’m not going to pledge a schedule, because I’m a terrible procrastinator, so I’ll never stick to it. Instead, I’m going to pledge to make time for me and make time to write. And if that time is spent writing, or watching a crappy season of Desperate Housewives or the sublime Downton Abbey, or cooking up a storm in the kitchen…it doesn’t matter, because it’s about me again, and what makes me happy. And I hope you’ll stay with me for the ride.