If you don’t celebrate the little things in life, how will you ever be able to recognize the larger things when they roll through?
Today marks a whole month of me putting pen to paper, and writing blog posts. Every. Single. Day.
This was a silent goal of mine — to get back into writing blog posts with the very same gusto and enthusiasm I started with all those years ago.
And here I am, standing at the other side looking back on 31 blog posts in 31 days.
Here’s how those 31 days went and what I learnt along the way.
There is the potential that this could help you on your own journey towards the betterment of your blogging skills.
I reviewed writing software and mused on my favourite opening lines of books. I told people what to expect when expecting (a book) and how to become a writer and how to write when you’re uninspired. Together, we explored how much it costs to publish a book (from zero dollars to a lot, in case you are wondering) and the differences between pantsing and planning books.
I feel like coaching others through these things coached me through them too and gradually over the thirty one days I noticed that the words were easier to find — the inspiration was closer to the top of my mind and the writing came faster than before. Writing is truly like exercising a muscle of group of muscles, and if I’ve learnt anything from life it’s that you have to go slowly with muscles — you push hard but not so hard that you strain something and you always protect your lower back.
I Found Inspiration
In tv shows and in nutrition; in beaches and in TikToks; and in moods. In my new found love of gyms, I found inspiration in F45 and thinking about nutrition and self-care. I listened to cover songs and podcasts and walking, and I finally found my creativity waking up again. I felt renewed and I rejoiced.
I improved Working From Home
For myself and perhaps for others too, I improved working from home. I found chairs and sought desks, and what people didn’t see is that I constructed them in the tiniest of rooms in my apartment on my own over two evenings. And then one day the love of my life brought home a spare monitor for me too and my working from home situation was complete. Finally I wasn’t working on the kitchen counter, sandwiched between actual sandwich bread and the cereals. Finally, we had a desk to call our own.
I ate better, relaxed, and learned how to deal with the little and big things all at once. I found time for myself.
I explored how to get up after a fail and what three years of Caribbean sunsets feel like. I made an amazing race scavenger hunt too. I spoke about my engagement and all the things nobody tells you about what happens after getting engaged.
Perhaps, most importantly of all, I felt myself becoming more peaceful. In many ways, to many writers, writing is a form of therapy. Whiel the words I write on the page might not be all or any of my most intimate thoughts, there is a catharsis in expressing anything at all.
And, after an entire year that left my tongue-tied — struggling to find the words to even comprehend what was happening around me — finally writing consistently helped me to deal with some of the things I have been holding onto. I think, in some ways, I fear that if I started writing then the emotions of all that has happened would be unleashed like a giant tidal wave running towards the shore. This has not happened — in fact, maybe the opposite.
I often forget that writing has always been a kind of meditation for me, and something that has always soothed my weary soul. It seems stupid now that I ever forgot. Writing heals me.
For that, and so much more, I am thankful.
How is your year going so far? If there’s one thing that this month has taught me it’s that it’s never too late to start again.