The Blogging Pact
Can I write a blog post after only getting several hours of sleep? It depends. If I’m aiming for perfection, the answer is no. But if I just want to jot down some thoughts, add a random image, and hit ‘publish’, I could do it.
It’s strange how I put so much time and effort into each post, especially when I know only a few people will read it. Why do I agonise over my sentences, pushing the words around for ages before I’m happy? Why do I reject word after word before I find the exact one I want in my closing sentence?
I guess there’s the challenge of writing something that gives me a feeling of satisfaction. But does perfection matter for everyone else? Surely, most people skim through stories and would be quite content with my first or second versions. No one needs the version that took me all day or longer to write.
Every day, I jot down notes about the ideas that pop into my head. I think, “I’ll turn those ideas into blog posts.” But usually, I don’t because I know I haven’t got time to write and edit so many posts. So, the ideas remain unshared. My blog remains at a standstill.
And I don’t tell you about:
The daily missal readings and Rosary graphics I’m making
The books I’m reading and the ones I’d like to read
House of David and other mini-series I’m enjoying
The things I’m adding to my journal
The results of my AI-generated podcasts experiment
A thought about AI shaming
My drawing experiment
The helpful Examen app I discovered
Digital gardens
A bird identification app
My slippery kangaroo story
My restoration story
Fascia strength training
The Keto Slacking diet
Making photo albums using Keynote
Adding text to photos
And many other things
Does it matter if my ideas drift away without me writing about them? I tell myself that blogging is unimportant. It’s okay if my notes remain hidden on my phone or in my head. And then I think about the value of sharing, the conversations we could have, and what I could learn as I write my posts.
In her book, Tiny Experiments, Anne-Laure Le Cunff suggests we design tiny experiments motivated by our curiosity. We make a pact with ourselves: I’ll do this particular thing for this amount of time and then look at the data. We announce our pact to hold ourselves accountable.
So, I’m going to write blog posts for the next month. How many each week? Shall I aim for three? That’s my pact. And then I will evaluate the results. Did I enjoy writing? What did I learn?
The posts won’t be perfect. They’ll be my unimpressive quick thoughts and a photo or two. But maybe you can improve them by commenting, adding your own ideas, continuing the conversation.
I could always return to a published post at a later date and work on it some more. But to do that, I need a first version or maybe a second one. I don’t need a perfect story.
As I finish this post, writing the concluding words, I feel a bit nervous. Do I really want to make a blog-writing commitment? Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you about my pact, because what if I change my mind?
Making a commitment is hard, isn’t it? Especially when we’re tired. I’ve been tired for years, so I don’t make many commitments. It’ll be interesting to see how this one turns out.
Image
This magnificent owl photo was taken by Richard Lee, Unsplash.
I have lots of gorgeous bird photos on my phone. They’re waiting. I might tell you how I will use them another time.
So…
Do you jot down your ideas? On a phone? In a notebook? In a social media post? In your digital garden? Do you find commitments difficult to make? And what about birds? Which ones do you see where you live?