This week’s challenge was to write two pages per day. Handwritten. On actual paper. Something I haven’t done in a long time.
I didn’t really know what to expect with this. I figured it would be hard, but doable. I expected to work through some blog posts on paper. Like drafts. I even thought I’d end up with some scheduled posts out of it. Stop laughing.
I didn’t realize that two pages for me is about 450 words. For me, that’s a lot. Most of my posts here are less than 300 words. I didn’t realize how different writing on paper is from blogging. I didn’t realize that writing 450+ words per day in addition to blogging every day would shift how I see myself as a writer. I didn’t expect to go so deep into my own head, get stuck, then wiggle myself out of the darkness. I didn’t expect to remember so much about writing that I had forgotten. I forgot how important it is for me to ask the big questions and make space for that. I forgot that writing and digging in makes me want to read again. I forgot how much I censor myself.
Today ends five days of writing every day outside of blogging. I’m afraid to stop. Afraid that I’ll go back to forgetting so much of who I am that I rediscovered this week. Maybe I’ll just keep going. It’s hard, but I’m in a place I’m not quite ready to leave.