Sitting at my desk, contemplating my utter-boredom yesterday I had this realization that was more of a revelation: I need to be writing. I have not been writing much, nothing serious anyway. This blog - though good for me and maybe interesting to the handful of people who read each post - is not what I'd think of as a serious project. It's inconsistent, it's not really centered around any sort of theme other than my brain and rants. Maybe I sell myself short, too...I don't know. But I need to be writing. Actually putting effort into developing this thing that somehow is life-giving.
I'm one of those people that is sort of good at a lot of things. I'm doing this class at church that helps you discover and study your gifts, strengths, and talents; essentially how you're wired. Particularly the strengths test is meant to be used to find areas you're good in, and develop those. In sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind, dreading my job as I sit there at it, I thought: I need to be writing.
I'm good at a few things; I connect with them and have some sort of understanding of them, but I'm not completely sure where my raw talent lies. I have a piece of the puzzle but not the whole thing. Which is fine, no one's ever fully arrived. I'm also the kind of person that won't try something if I know I'm likely to fail. Failure can be defined on several levels for me, I don't think it has to be an epic face-plant.
I didn't end up starting NaNoWriMo because I don't want to write crap. I don't want to spend a month writing crap. But I was thinking maybe I should. Maybe I need to just go for it, and trust that I need to get some out of my system, and get my system into the mode. Throw myself in the ring...gosh I'm so obsessed with metaphors.
If writing is what I need to do, I need to do it.
