For a long time, I was a storyteller without a voice. I buried myself in other people’s words, so I didn’t have to listen to the ones haunting me. I would sit down at my computer, or with a pen and paper, and stare at the blank page, giving up in frustration. I couldn’t start; before words even made it to the page, I would question them, edit them, try to shape them into something they didn’t want to be. This went on for years, and I think I suffered for it.
All those ghosts, all those stories never told.
So finally, after a lot of thought, I started this blog. Originally, it was a challenge for myself: write something, anything, and post every day for 30 days. I needed something outside of me to hold myself accountable. Something that could become a routine, where I would feel off, wrong, if I didn’t log in, if I didn’t write or proofread or post.
Some days were easy, and the stories just presented themselves, flowing out of me in one burst. Other times, I had to pull each word from my brain, slowly, painfully. Some days, I wrote short poetry, just to have something. Some days I didn’t even write, but posted a piece I had written in the past. But I did it. Every day, for 30 days.
And then something surprising happened. I realized it had become a habit. I kept going. I watched as the number of posts kept going up, up, up. I started mid-January, but as of yesterday, I posted every day for a whole month, in February.
I started this blog with hope, but not optimism, that I would be able to post 30 days in a row.
This, today, is my 55th post. It might not be much in the scope of a year, or a decade, or a lifetime, but for now, I am going to savor this milestone I didn’t think I’d reach.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020