I am not a morning person. Never have been. Probably never will be totally successful at transforming into one. Oh, I can make myself a morning person. I can function. Although my brain is usually on autopilot until about 10. And it really doesn’t matter how much caffeine you feed me. I’ve managed to fall asleep standing up before because my brain just refused to accept the fact that it was 5 in the morning and I was up for some god forsaken reason.
I always have these great ambitions though, to get up at 630 and spend the two hours before I have to go to work writing or working out or something else equally positive to set me further on my road of creating a better life for myself.
Because I do want a better life. I want to be financially secure. I want to be able to afford my own house again. I want to be able to go out and enjoy life. I also want to live a life I’m happy with. I want to see my dreams accomplished. I want to actually publish a book and see it on a store shelf. I want to get really good on my trials bike and go to a National (which means a new bike sometime soon). I want to get really good with my horse back riding and challenge myself to actually enter a competition (which means having my own horse which is an even less likely possibility at this point in my life than the new bike).
All that means work. A lot of work. And while I don’t really think I’m lazy or unmotivated anymore, it means being focused, which is something I’m not usually. And it means being a morning person and forcing myself up out of bed at my alarm.
If only my bed weren’t so darn comfy.
So today was day one I actually got myself up out of bed at my alarm this past month, mostly thanks to daylight savings time tricking me. Still, it feels good to be writing this. To not have followed the siren’s song and gotten back into bed. To have kept the writing motivation I started last night working on a book going to this morning and this blog.
Because the truth is I really like writing. It calms me. It helps me organize the tangled thoughts in my head. And it never ceases to amaze me how I write things all day long in my head. I’ll get the most amazing ideas for blogs or stories or plot twists or character development while I’m at work, going about my normal day. Although it also never ceases to amaze me how when faced with a blank white screen my brain has suddenly forgotten what words are. Yet once I can get past the writer’s block, get a flow of words going, it’s a beautiful feeling as the story flows out of my fingers and appears on the page.
Sometimes I wonder if my procrastination at getting up early in the morning and writing has less to do with how comfy my bed is and more a flaw of my character. As in the return of the anxiety ridden lazy me who was so convinced that her writing was worthless that why should she really bother. Why waste the energy? It wasn’t going to happen. Wasn’t going to change anything. No one was going to read it. Who was I to think I could make a living at this?
Well, maybe I can’t. That’s not the point of the blog. The point of writing is to write if that is what your passion is. And I think it is mine. I love words. I see stories everywhere, and get excited by those stories. I’m constantly writing things in my head.
But the old me, the one so focused on having to be perfect, flawed from childhood with the erroneous thought that if you can’t be perfect you might as well not try, took the joy of writing away from me for a long time. Even when I thought I was writing just for me, I was focused on the wrong thing. Too focused on the finished product before I even had completed the rough draft. Doubting and undermining myself before I’d even written a few words. Wanting to make it perfect. Have the right image. Grow a successful business. Completely forgetting who I was. How I just wanted to have the sheer joy of putting words on paper. Of sharing a story.
So this week I’m going to work on getting up and writing. Not focused on anything else but just the joy of writing. Of sharing what I have to say, even if no one else wants to like it. Getting away from the old me. Creating a new me that is excited to get up in the morning so that I can hit the keyboard. On writing whatever is in my head, in my heart, no matter how messy and imperfect it is. Because I believe in myself and what I am doing.
Now if only my bed wasn’t so comfy…