I’ll be honest, I struggle with keeping up routines. Not the actual keeping up part, so much, at least no more than anyone else. But once I’ve mentally committed to a routine, the inevitable point at which that routine gets disturbed or derailed also inevitably results in me feeling guilty over perceived failure. The only reason I’ve been more consistent about writing in this blog than I’ve ever been with a blog previously in my life is that we now live in a glorious world of scheduled posts.
When I can write, I write a lot. I save them up and schedule them to post in the future when I may or may not have the time and focus necessary to keep posting. It’s the only thing which keeps me from just absolutely giving up when I go too long between days when I have a chance to write.
The rest of life doesn’t, unfortunately, come with that kind of feature. I can’t meditate a lot right now and save it all up for when I don’t have time to do it later. We still have to eat and sleep and work and take care of ourselves on a regular basis. There are biological and social imperatives which keep us on track.
My problem, though, is that when I don’t have some other force causing me to keep a routine, I will absolutely fail to keep it. It will happen. And something in my soul – that part of me which is shaped more by the past than most of us like to acknowledge – hangs on tight to the message that others don’t tolerate mistakes, that I have to not just get on track again but make up for what was missed, that perfection is possible and I’m a failure for not reaching it.
That long blogging hiatus I just took, the one which coincided with the most creatively productive period I’ve ever enjoyed in my life, is still a source of some guilt. I meant to start blogging again in January, but I spent November and December writing and publishing a book instead of blogging, so it didn’t happen. And though my conscious mind knows nobody probably even noticed I wasn’t blogging, no one was sitting around wondering when I’d start writing again, my subconscious isn’t as easily convinced.
Anyway, I’m kind of writing this as a pat on the back for myself because I didn’t let the hiatus guilt stop me from picking it back up again. See, along with the guilt thing is the little voice that says, “if you post now after being silent for months, you’re calling attention to your absence.” So, here I am, actually calling attention to my absence. No more avoidance.