not the post i wanted

I’ve been writing a post for five days. This is not an exaggeration. I knew exactly what I wanted to write about—a response to the question, “What exactly do you do?”

It turned out to be a deep reflection into how I define my work. That was the title of the post: my work.

I wrote about my Enneagram personality.
I wrote about my embarrassment of failure.
I wrote about my mantras.

I was inspired by this view of my desk (five days ago).

mantra2020

The writing revealed things I didn’t know. I was reminded that this is one of the reasons why I love writing. I found gratitude deeper than I knew before I wrote. 

And I was interrupted. Over and over and over again, I was interrupted from writing the blog post. I reminded myself that it’s okay for things to take a little while. 

I don’t have to be fast.

Today, during a little break, I decided to finish the post. I do not know what happened, but as I was writing the last line…
(It was so well crafted, and I was puffed up with pride.)…
my too long (but very pretty)…
finger nail hit something and…
the post was gone.

As a long time blogger, this did not bother me, because I know the undo button and I know the undo shortcut and I know the revert to previous version link

None of these things worked. I was left with an empty post box under a title, “my work.” I promised myself I would write and join the #sosmagic community. 

The thought of recreating the post perturbed me. The thought of starting anything else from scratched annoyed me. The thought of not posting embarrassed me.

This is a better than nothing post, but not the post I wanted post. 

Writing is like that sometimes.

9 Comments »

  1. At the risk of being your annoyingly positive friend, lol. I LOVE THIS!!! I hear your pain about writing lost. It’s such a drag. And yet, I think this post is perfect, and captures you and your work beautifully. Writing is hard work, takes time, requires us to be open, willing to risk, fail, try again. And teaching, teaching is about being open, honest, vulnerable about our own “disasters” and trying again so that our students know what they are experiencing is absolutely normal and totally manageable.

    Nourish on, my friend! Keep making thing bright. It and you are fantabulous.

  2. Oh man, I’m so sorry! I know you may not have the time or energy to recreate the post, but I do want to hear about your mantras. Here’s one I’ve relied on recently that I love (not sure if I came up with it on my own):
    “I am okay.
    I am enough.
    I am becoming.”

    Write on my friend!

  3. Perhaps, in the divine plan, your reflection was meant for your eyes and heart only. The post you wrote is what your readers needed today. We need to know that some texts may be lost, we get interrupted, and we still write. And maybe one day, the beautiful reflection is ready to appear on paper/screen again, and then it’s ready for the world.

  4. I’m sorry your writing disappeared. I have a theory about things like that: God didn’t want that to happen and so it didn’t.

    I have tried to order things. I have tried to make plans. I, once, even attempted a trip across the country to look at a new vocation. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. My credit card isn’t accepted. I can’t make the computer connect. The information is lost. It is then, when things aren’t working right, for no reasonable reason, I hear a small voice saying, “you ask God to keep you safe and to make a straight path for you…”

  5. Ruth, in it all, I thank you for the realism you shared. I almost didn’t publish this week(rather late actually) but I’m okay with it. You wrote and it’s more than enough.

  6. I hate when things like this happen! I hope someday you will be able to rewrite that post, because I was intrigued by this topic and the ideas you examined. (They kind of inspired me, actually.) But I’m glad you wrote anyway, because I’m always glad to read your words.

  7. The loss of that post fills my heart with horror – yet here one filled with raw honesty and the message to keep writing, no matter what. Something out there may have hijacked your Muse, but … you wrote anyway! It is perhaps the very message we bloggers need to read. Thank you.