Because I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I don’t make resolutions, period. Maybe I’m cynical but in my experience, if something requires the title, “resolution” to goad me into doing it, it’s not going to happen no matter what time of year I begin or what I choose to call it.
So this is not a resolution.
It’s a step.
Steps, I’ve found, work better. There’s nothing binding about a step. I can step forward, I can take two steps, or four, or twelve. I can step backwards or to the left. I can jump, skip, twirl. Steps are forgiving. If I take a step and decide I don’t like where I land, I can move away. Or I can stop taking steps for a while and just spend some time in the grass. The pressure’s off.
This is a step.
If you read my “About” page, I mention being scared. I have, in fact, been so scared that I wrote the “About” page last summer, and have not been back since.
No, that’s not true. I’ve been back many times. I just haven’t written anything.
Writing scares me. I’m a little bit afraid of what people will think, but I actually believe the larger portion of my fear comes from what I might think of myself. I want to be a writer. I call myself a writer. What if the things I write are no good? What if I create something and it’s terrible? What if it’s boring or lame or just bad?
That question keeps my life so far from where I want it to be. But I know it doesn’t have to. It can be a threat, but it can also be an invitation. What if this could be amazing? What if I could learn something? What if I could grow? What if this blog could thrive? What if it could fail miserably and I could discover I can survive and keep living anyway?
I want to see what might happen. I want to move towards the invitation. Just an inch. One little post. Nothing deep or long or luminous. Just a few words. Just a start.
Just a step.