My blog is a shell of what it once was. Perhaps that’s not a fair statement; it is more accurate to say that my blog is exactly what I need it to be right now. When I began blogging almost five years ago, I needed the creative outlet. To my surprise I found a blogging community, and my world has expanded through meeting women from all over the country and the world. I wrote because writing helped me connect with others.
Today I write because I haven’t written in almost two weeks, and I start to panic if I haven’t published something here in awhile. I’m not sure why I’m concerned; I’ve lost so many readers from the early days of blogging. I stopped reading a gazillion other blogs just so those bloggers would read mine. Now I have a small group that I read consistently because I choose to, not because I feel obligated. At this point, I’m fairly certain I won’t lose any loyal readers because of my sparse posting. My momentum is gone and my audience is small, but I don’t quit. Even though I don’t often feel like writing, I do not want to give up this space.
I write today because I don’t want to lose my groove. Writing is like exercise or healthy eating; the longer I stay on track, the easier it is to continue. Once I’ve stopped writing, or skipped a few days of working out, or eaten with reckless abandon for a week, it’s tough to climb back on the wagon and move forward. I forget how good it feels to write when I haven’t done it in awhile, and the longer I go without, the easier it is to continue not writing.
So I sit down and write today, using the Finish the Sentence Friday prompt of “Why I Write.” I feel like I’ve written about this before, so I checked – and I have, a few times. The most recent time was a year and a half ago:
I keep on writing because I want my words to make someone feel, even if that person is just me.
I keep on writing because I wonder where it could take me next month, next year, in five years.
I keep on writing because I worry about what I will do if I stop.
I don’t worry so much about what I will do if I stop anymore. But I do write on this blog to keep a door open, for opportunities that may pass me by otherwise. Because of this blog, I’ve been writing for a local print publication for the last year. My parents proudly (I may be overselling this adverb) keep each monthly issue in their powder room for guests’ reading enjoyment; the last time I visited I was touched to find that my mom had thoughtfully dog-eared my piece for easy locating.
I write to share my thoughts and feelings more eloquently than I could verbally. The words that exit my mouth often sound nothing like they do in my head, but writing allows me to be purposeful and deliberate. It also allows my words to stick around, recording memories to revisit later.
I write because I would miss it if I didn’t. I would miss who I am when I write. And when I think about quitting and finding another hobby, I receive a sign from the universe that changes my mind. It may be a text from a friend, or a comment from a reader. Or it may just be a dog-eared page in my parents’ powder room.
I believe in the power of words, and the magic they hold. That’s why I write.