I did it.
I wasn’t sure if it would be possible. Its day seven, the final post of the Your Turn Challenge. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be. One small step at a time.
Once I accepted the challenge, I made it a daily priority. I gave myself time. Its something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. The challenge gave me just enough structure to make it fly. The form and process was open-ended, yet the deliverable was clear. I wanted to complete the challenge for myself; it doesn’t matter if anyone even reads it. It’s easier to share when I’m doing it for me.
I know I’m capable of doing this every day, if I so choose.
I felt vulnerable. I wanted to spend a few more days ruminating on each post so that I could share something more polished. A few times I went back and read a post I had already published, noticed a few typos, and thought, “Maybe I should fix it?”
I didn’t though. Nothing was broken. I let the typo be there imperfect. It will never be perfect. That’s okay.
I had to sacrifice. There’s always an opportunity cost. I didn’t meet my other writing goals every day. Some days took me longer than others.I fought for my own time. Some days I didn’t know what to write and felt uninspired. Some days it was a mission to find an internet connection, and it wasn’t fun. I made a commitment to myself though. I find I smile more when I keep those kinds of commitments.
I can balance.
I’m not a fortune teller, but I’ve got a plan. It’s imperfect and it will change. That’s okay. This is my intention.
It was so simple. You gave yourself three hours to write daily, uninterrupted. It was a practice. In each session, you decided how to create. The morning practices began rotating between computer writing and blogging. At night, you’d journal before bed. As your practice grew, you discovered many layers of modes, forms and techniques within the practice. It didn’t get boring. You spent the rest of the day creating art with nature and people while eating good food. The act of diligent practice helped everything prosper. Once you found your rhythm, you started smiling a lot more. Nice one, Muffadal. I always knew you were a dancer.
I choose me.
It’s Your Turn.