While I go about my day, I think of topics to write about, but don't jot them down, and then -- of course -- forget them. But in addition, I just want my blog posts (and essays, and book chapters) to be GREAT, so I don't end up writing them at all. Because ... they won't be great.
It makes perfect sense.
And I know what to do about it.
Just write shit.
I need to remind myself (on a frequent basis apparently) that I am allowed (encouraged even) to write badly. Just to get it on the paper. And then I can edit.
I went on this really great vacation with my honey ...
... so you'd think I'd have plenty of fodder to write about. And I do, but I want it to be great travel writing, not my diary. Sigh. But, again, then I just don't write anything. And that's just stupid.
So. This blog will just be my diary.
I just gave myself permission to write whatever comes to mind. Whatever is important to me that day. And today it's this:
I visited with my best friend today. First time in a few weeks. It was superb. She brought her ukelele and played music while I made lunch, and then I gave her a massage. We talked about relationships, music, gardening, community living, Costa Rica, what we'll do when our kids are older, weight gain, and old times.
She's inspiring, and I hope I am still best friends with her when we are both 82.