Seriously, every time I stop writing regularly, my emotional state takes a shot.
I don’t know what it is, but the act of putting words down on something–whether it be on paper, on a blog, in an email, or any place else–makes me feel better. About work. Life. The world. Humanity. All of it.
I’ve tried other things to emulate that feeling. I’ve tried yoga, running, extensive cooking, heavy reading, listening to music, playing music. And the only one that may have come close is running, but I hurt my foot doing that (I’ll probably try again in the future).
So I should keep writing. I have to write. I need to write. Writing is my emotional outlet–my “safe space,” so to speak. Everyone has one, or at least should have one. And I need to keep using mine.
I feel like I tell myself that too much. Like I keep saying it and I write for a couple weeks, then I stop. But if I don’t keep telling myself that I need to do it, I may never give it another go, and that’d only get worse as time goes on.
This time, I’m doing things different, though.
In the past, I’ve given myself guidelines: 1,000 words a day. Or three pages, handwritten. Or write twice a day: Once upon waking up, and once before bed. But that gets to be too much. Those are all just goals that are a chore to follow.
So my new plan is simple: Write. Every day. It doesn’t matter what I write about. It doesn’t matter how I write. It doesn’t matter if I publish it or share it with someone. Just write. And continue to do it.