Oh folks, things are just not going my way. I was so looking forwards to keeping up with a posting schedule for the first time in my blogging history, but life happened, as it so often does. One of my favourite vloggers pointed out in a recent video that we, as people, are terribly inclined to vastly overestimate our abilities to deal with things that we control, and I think that observation really applies to my experiences with time management as of late (as of always). I have a tendency to greatly overestimate the potential of my time and undervalue it as a commodity simultaneously. I plan much and I do little, and blogging is the perfect illustration of this dynamic.
I’ve spent the afternoon trying to compile photos and thoughts for the two travel posts I’d meant to have up a week ago (Brussels and Amsterdam), but there have been a lot of other tasks vying for my attention. I leave for home in six days, and twelve days after that hope to go to work at a summer camp nearby. Needless to say there is a lot that I need to accomplish in this relatively short period of time. Already I feel the importance of this blog receding in relativity, and that worries me. Writing has always been one of my first commitments in life, and one of the greatest struggles. There are days when things just come and on those days writing is easy. Words flow out onto paper and whenever I read them again I’m amazed. I have to sit down and ask myself: “was that really me?” Other days it isn’t so easy. But blogging (along with journaling), I’ve always desperately believed (despite certain evidence to the contrary) to be different.
I haven’t had a whole lot of success with blogging, to be honest, and right now isn’t the exception. I have three half finished posts about places I’ve been and thoughts that I’ve had about them, but each one feels awkward and trite. On the bright side, the photos are pretty.
Commitment to quality is the problem here- I don’t want to post something I’m not proud of. I don’t even want to work on something I’m not proud of. There are times when you just keep plugging away at things, and then there are times when you step back and say, “maybe it’s best to cut my losses.” Unfortunately, this isn’t either of those times. This is a time when I have to remind myself that sometimes you need to be gentle with myself. To remind myself that writing is not a violent, self-hating process, but that there’s also no room for throwing the towel in. This is a time when I have to remind myself that writing is a bit like growing a garden: there are going to be seasons in which nothing seems to be growing, give it time and care and it will bloom. But when there simply isn’t rain, divert a stream.
Right now I am stressed beyond all belief (as is perhaps noticeable in the tangential nature of this post. My mind tends to run in many directions at once when I’m stressed). I have a lot to do and that usually means that I spend time not doing it. Blogging is on that list, but so is packing my backpack to see if I need to buy an extra bag (I will), finding a gift for the family I’m staying with, and coming to grips with the fact that I’m leaving. It’s all a lot more than I bargained for, and six days isn’t nearly as long as I imagined it to be. (It was still eight days when I started writing this post). There’s a knot in my throat the size of Texas as I write this, but I’m afraid something has got to be put on hold. For sanity’s sake it’s going to be the blog posts. They’ll be up, eventually, but maybe not within the next few weeks. The good news is that when they’re published they will be posts that I’m proud of, and hopefully that means that they will be ones that you’ll enjoy reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.
In the meantime, here are some pictures I took at a bamboo garden I visited in the south of France.