The last few weeks have made me really re-think the plan to increase the frequency of my postings, and I am actually starting to get a bit panicky about this rash proclamation. I had a bout of sickness two weeks ago and it really knocked me down, and then last week, there were technical issues on the site and I ended up doing some maintenance work that didn’t get resolved until Friday morning. I’m still very behind not only from the lost time, but the resultant catch-up. I’ve re-run old columns on most Sundays for many weeks, and the shame of not having written anything new makes it feel like failure. And, really, especially as I gear-up he content volume, it presages the bigger failure. It doesn’t help me that most people don’t seem to notice that they’ve read this material before. It fills me with doubts, and makes me question whether anyone is actually reading anything, or if any of this work is worth anything to anybody.
Of course, I do know that when I failed to send a column a few weeks ago there were a few people who had missed it and were concerned for me, and I felt both good and bad. I felt bad for having caused concern and for failing to send something out.
Technically, it’s the first week in 259 that I have failed to send send something out, but, in that 259, there are probably fewer than 100 stories, sent many times. That starts the shame spiral again, and we don’t need to tread there again.
I fantasize about having stories queued up weeks in advance. I dream of being ahead by weeks, and not having to be working on an impending deadline so that I can finish — or even start working on a product to sell. This fantasy ranks up there with a clean house and more sleep. I am starting to feel like the entirety of these projects are useless and not worth the effort, and am finding it harder and harder to argue with these thoughts.
I have been buoyed by the excitement from you, my loyal readers, which has keep me pressing forward, and even with these excited murmurings, I am deflated and adrift, at the same time, the looming launch of the “secret project” tells me again how far I am behind. I had plans to be halfway finished with it by this time, and I’m being overly optimistic by proclaiming it 1/4 of the way done, and looking at a list of workable items at being fewer than I need. And I know that as soon as things are underway, I will find it more difficult to keep up than ever.
I guess, I needed to share with you the fears I’ve been having, and it feels a bit better to confess. It feels even better to have gotten something new posted. And the only way forward is putting one word after another. Tiny steps. Drop by drop. Trickles to streams, streams to ponds. Ponds to lakes. Lakes to oceans. Oceans don’t come without the drops.