I have noticed my old desire for blogging and writing rearing its head again over the past few days. And although I’ve had a few ideas for posts, I have nothing interesting to say about them right at this moment.
I think it is very easy to get wrapped up in the idea of doing something — so much so that I usually can’t start it. I don’t know whether it stems from the little perfectionist inside me, but I have such a need to do something right immediately, that not doing it at all is better than being disappointed by it.
I’m trying to train myself to just do things anyway (enter Shia LaBeouf). It doesn’t matter if they’re bad. In fact, things are meant to be bad the first time around! That’s why drafts exist. That’s what practice is for. If I’m not doing the activity in the first place, how do I expect to get any better?
Motivation has always been difficult for me, even when it’s something I really enjoy. Because if I find it hard or I don’t get good straight away, I lose interest. Or perhaps it’s not that I lose interest, but that I feel shame for not being amazing at it? I’m not sure. But I’m making myself continue with things anyway.
So just write something! Just draw something. It doesn’t need to be good. It doesn’t need to be shown to anyone. It just needs to exist, to get out in the open, to begin whatever creative, healthy, intellectual, or any other kind of journey you’re making.