Disappointed. This is what I’m feeling right now. Yesterday demanded something of me every single minute. Most of what was demanded, I didn’t want to give.
The thing I’m most disappointed about isn’t the unintended messages or the grumbling people or even the visit that went too long past my bedtime, the thing I am most disappointed about is I didn’t get to slice.
I know many people write posts ahead of time. Others keep a back up post in their queue for days like yesterday. However, I’ve challenged myself to write day to day. I’ve been determined to carve out time daily to push myself to tug on current lessons, current thinking, and fresh experiences. This pushes me as a writer differently than when I allow things to simmer, giving space to reflect and ponder about my topics.
I’m disappointed that there wasn’t space to slice. I push away thoughts about whether I’m to blame for not finding time to write. I’m not. The disappointment I feel isn’t from guilt. The day simply unfolded and demand after demand after demand faced me. The demands followed me home and pushed out my relaxing time, writing time, reading time, and eventually bedtime.
Some days don’t go as planned. It doesn’t matter how much I step with care, there are some days I find myself in a mess. What I’m realizing is perhaps the mess is exactly where I am supposed to be.
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