Tuesday. 14.08.2018: I realised this morning that, just this year, I wrote about 300 articles and small posts. And a novel. And it feels good. Not necessarily the number, but to see that I put in the work. Today I thought I try to bring up the mess in my head on paper:
3 years ago I had a dream of being a writer. Afraid of running out of ideas I used to spare them. Posting once a month. And then once every 2 months. I had many ideas lined up to write about - but the right moment never came.
"I need to be older, wiser, need better grammar, more study." And so I did a lot of other things, hoping that one day the perfect time to start will come.
It seems that something shifted in me last year. Where I realised that in order to be a writer, I may have to consider to actually sit down and write.
Since then I've written daily. Posted daily. A fearful experience at first.
I believe every piece is very personal - and in a way - every artist who exposes himself to the world has to embrace some sort of trust in himself. Self expression is indeed a vulnerable act. One that scared me to death.
Yet facing that fear every day had somehow cleared a channel. I found that - especially on days of self-doubt and writers-block (aka self-expression block) "doing it anyways", despite the fear, had somehow strengthened the trust I have in myself.
Quite a good thing to have, I think.
What lasted from the fear of "not having enough ideas": Well...
It would be hard for me to write a list with 300 topics to write about. Yet, somehow they arised. Why?
To summarize my experience so far (as a young man who just tries to explore); the daily act of blogging, helped me to open my eyes to the nuances of the world and brought me to the recognition, which I believe we all have already experienced as kids: There's always something to be astonished about.
Sometimes to do what we love appears like stepping into a long dark tunnel without a light at the end. And the first few moments are most tempting to return back, exit the tunnel, back to the world we know.
Perhaps a tunnel isn't a strong metaphor for what I want to say and still, I believe that facing the "darkness", the adventure is somehow worth it.
At least for me.
What counts: To start. To create something. Just something. What it is, may not even be of matter.
I feel I get better, I learn - holy cow I learn (!), and grow. And sometimes I surprise myself.
Compared to the old grumpy novelists I'm just learning to walk. But how cool it is to learn how to walk...
This post is originally published on my blog: samryter.com/blog
I, Sam Ryter (
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