I wish that I could say something poignant about change, except that it is. That every time I made a change in my life that turned out to be major, it was really one that seemed of inches at the time.

Like quitting smoking.

Like waking up at 5:45 three days a week to work out.

Like drinking 4 liters of water a day.

I have come to find that in most instances, it is far, far easier to surrender and to accept changes than it is to fight them — especially in the case of getting up at 5:45.

One would think that it seems simple in theory, and difficult in practice. My reality is that the opposite is true. It’s much harder for me to conceptually fight getting up at 5:45 in the morning than it is to physically accept it, and stumble to the bathroom to take my morning shower.

What is the true difference that the 15 minutes of extra sleep would get me? I have found that the difference for me is negligible, at best, but the rewards have been far more gratifying.

Even the Dullest Pencil

I finally got some time to spend writing yesterday. It was mostly a vignette, and exercise just to get back into the swing of things. It wasn’t the greatest thing I’ve ever written, not by a long shot, but it was a start. I have to keep reminding myself constantly that nothing needs to be perfect in the first shot, there’s always the ability to edit.

So of course, this is a practice bigger than just writing;  it’s more existential than that.

I did go back and read some of the vignettes I wrote two years ago, when I was in a writing clip, and not to break my arm patting myself on the back or anything, but they’re a pretty solid kernel. If someone else had written them, I would have enjoyed reading them.

My writing style – the main type of writing I ended up focusing on in my brief, brief tenure as a Creative Writing minor in college – is the personal essay type. How I relate to the world, my impressions and projections of the world around me.

And it’s not because I have this hubris about people wanting to read what I think. (Of course, the irony of blogging aside….) I don’t think I have a corner on the market of original thought. No, I’m afraid my affinity for non-fiction is more practical than that.

I have never been terrifically good at plot. I tend to get way more wrapped up in the words than I do the story, which I realize is not a totally uncommon problem in writing. I just choose not to inflict my deficiency on the literary world. Maybe someday, I’ll try my hand at fiction writing: I’ll only get better with practice.

Until then, it just feels good to be able to pull myself up and walk again, I guess.