I have written a post like this several times over the years on various blogs, announcing I am really, for reals this time, going to start being serious about writing. Obviously, the fact that I’m writing this again means that I have failed every time before now.
Then why keep going? I have learned from running half marathons that you have to keep picking yourself up and trying again. If your first attempt ends in an injury and you have to stop running for months, you have to pick yourself up and try again. Even as people pass you and you’re hitting the wall and you can’t believe you ever thought you could do this, you have to keep going. Every extra step you take this time is progress. Moving from a 13 minute mile to a 12 minute mile feels like nothing when you see people effortlessly running 8 minute miles, but it is not nothing. No effort is lost in the universe.
How do you keep yourself from feeling like a failure when you are not able to power through? The most truthful answer would be, “I don’t know.” I feel the jealousy, the sadness of watching friends doing the things I wish I could be doing. Fighting the battle against comparison is a tough journey. A more extended answer is in my one publication from this fallow period.
Then why keep going? Why restart? Because I have learned that my identity is not my successes and failures, and it’s not whether someone else has succeed or failed more than me. My identity is my intentions and goals. I restart because this is who I am. Inside, I am a writer, and I can’t give up just because I went through a season without any harvest.
What’s different this time? This time, my kids are older, for one. My older kids can unload dishwashers and clean bathrooms, and I am finally coming out of the sheer exhaustion of caring for a baby. My youngest is at preschool for a few hours each day, which I hope to jealously guard for writing time.
But more than this, my kids are to the point where they can be a support. Yesterday during family prayer, my son prayed unprompted for Mom to be able to finish her book. Even though I’m barely at the beginning of this journey, I nearly cried to know that my son believes in me and wants me to succeed. They will all watch me to see if it is possible to do something hard, something you’ve always wanted to do.
Then why keep going? Why restart? Because I want my children, and myself, to see that eventually, if you work hard enough and keep getting up, dreams are possible. I want to show myself that I can do what I’ve set out to do. To take some of the mental toughness I’ve gained in running and apply that to my first love, my writing.
Frodo and Sam’s journey began by simply moving further from home than they had ever been. Even if I only move one step farther than I’ve been before, that will be enough.
So let the journey begin, until the next time I can start again.
