I always wanted to have a blog and be super diligent at regularly posting. So a couple of years ago I set one up and forced myself to write daily. And I hated it. It gave me anxiety knowing I ‘had’ to write something that day, and posts became forced and disingenuous. I was trying to write prescriptive, instructional posts that I thought people would like, when really no one was reading them and I hated writing them. And like most things you don’t enjoy, you start putting it off. The time gaps between posts began to widen and I failed at my promise of daily, which heightened the anxiety. This is bad, don’t do this.
A shift that I’ve adapted in the past year is to write for myself. I tap the keyboard with whatever flows out of my brain. I keep a running list in Evernote of inspirations that come to me when I'm exercising, traveling, walking, working, whatever. These are ideas that sparked my interest, ones I’d enjoy further exploring and picking apart. When I sit down to write, I then pick one of those bullet points and get to exploring. I don’t plan or make a layout or research. The organic nature of this approach leads to the conversational, informal style I prefer.
I understand many people enjoy the research-driven writing, stats-supported concept exploration. With my first blogging attempt, it became clear that I don’t. I like picking a single proposal/idea/notion for the shape and spilling my thoughts and experiences into it. It’s therapeutic for me, adding clarity and shape to what I’m really thinkin up there. My mind often feels like a convoluted highway of thoughts—ruminating, speculating, wondering, questioning. I’ve found the most effective way to define the roadways is to write. Putting it into words straightens the highway out, makes each thought more tangible. Often when I start writing, the article becomes something I didn’t expect it to become. The idea manifested into how I must’ve truly perceived it but that my conscious mind hadn’t yet recognized.
If you’re going to take on a side project for fun, doing it for anyone but yourself just makes it work and defeats the therapeutic effect a hobby is meant to have.