I received a little memo from WordPress recently that I’ve had this little blog for four years. My internal reaction was that sad trombone sound (womp womp) because for a while I’ve felt that I’ve been in a bit of a writing rut. The few things that I sit down to write either seem to fall short of what I want to communicate or get permanently stashed away as “drafts”. Nothing feels exactly right or original, whether I’m writing privately or on this blog. I’ll often look back to the way I was writing when I was fresh out of college, when my fingers were so accustomed to constantly churning out papers and theses that I couldn’t seem to help but keep up the momentum on my own time. I’ll read back over the stories that were pouring out of me during those days and decide that yes, I need to write more to write myself out of my writing funk.
Of course, the second I resolve to “write more” I invariably begin to write less. And what I do write feels less and less like “me”. And then naturally I hate myself. Just a little bit.
Yesterday I stumbled across two items back to back, though, which resonated with me and made me feel both encouraged and normal (two good things). And my four years of inconsistent blogging began to feel worthy of a little more fanfare than a sad trombone.
Happy anniversary little blog.