just write, fool.

Welcome to the voice in my head!  Notice I said voice.  It’s not a particularly organized one, and certainly not one concerned with grammar.  Sorry ’bout that.  I know that may bother some of you.  You probably stayed in Honors English.  Me?  I passed by the skin of my teeth and thanked the sweet Lord that my parents weren’t the pressuring kind.  I’m not a writer, but lately I feel something nudging me to start.   Here goes.

For real, why is this so hard?  If I was my friend, I’d have enough guts for both of us.  I’d be the best cheerleader and business manager I could find.  I’d know exactly where to start.  I’d tell me I have nothing to lose.  I’m smart and brave sometimes, but not-so-much on my own behalf.

Is there such a thing as a half-assed perfectionist?  That’s me.  I can absolutely go to bed with a messy kitchen. My kids’ clothes rarely match.  We high five when they do.  When I’m tempted to apologize to guests for the mess in my house, I usually get bored and stop before the excuse ever leaves my mouth.  I’ve never cared about the paper pile at someone else’s house, why should they care about mine?  They aren’t their bills to pay. I can totally leave that one book that isn’t going the same way as the other.  Make a car out of legos that is almost all green except for those two random reds?   Drives my husband batty every time, but hello?  I made a car! Enough of an accomplishment for me.

Then there is that other part of me.  The part that cannot possibly leave one cookie in the package.  Or three, even four.  It’s the part that must pack everything up by the door the night before we go anywhere more than school.  Baking before holidays equals no less than four desserts to make sure our food allergic child can follow the whims of taste buds like everyone else.  Tidy up a room?  Hell no, must completely excavate, sort, evaluate, purge and re-install!  Since having kids I usually only make it the the evaluate or purge stage before someone needs a nap or a meal.  This is where my half-assed genes come in quite handy.  My brain sees all the progress and tells me I deserve a break, I’ll resume tomorrow.  That or two months from now. Whatever.  My biggest hurdle, and I do now see it as a major hurdle, is that if anyone else is involved in my work, I have to have it 110% before I put it out there or share it with them.  I must be sure it costs them no time or energy.  Even if I’m doing someone a favor, it has to be a super favor.  It has to be exactly what they need or more than they would dare expect, even it’s at the expense of my own sanity.  I’m not a cynic, and no one has turned me down for not being good enough, but somehow I’m sure the world will crumble if I haven’t got it all figured out.  I have no right to this lunacy, but it holds me back.  I don’t take a step until I’m sure I can finish a marathon.  Absurd when I write it out.

Let’s face it, the half-assed side is way more fun.  It makes way more sense.  We are all in constant state of change.  No one is “done” with anything.  There is no finished product, just temporary offerings.  When I realize this, it seems much less overwhelming.  I totally respect where others are at in their learning process, and the kind folks I surround myself with will surely do the same for me.  I have no idea why I feel like I should start a blog.  I know little about them.  I have no clear end goal, but I have wild fantasies of  being a voice and an ear in the communities I belong in.  I’m fighting my tendencies, surrendering to my hippie-dippie side who wants to see where this will go.  I’m promising myself to just post, with nothing more than a quick read through.  If I do more, it will never go further than this.   It may fail.  I may flail.  My brain knows you’ll handle this just fine.  I’m voting for the half-assed party.

How about you?  Anyone else suffer from all-or-nothingitis?


4 thoughts on “just write, fool.

  1. “I totally reapect where others are at in their learning process”. I am in that same place, Bridget. Bravo, great blog! Love it. Take it from the girl who ran away to Oregon: embrace the hippy-dippy!

  2. LOVE THIS. Also, that paragraph about leaving the piles and the stack of papers left to tomorrow? As well as the half matched clothes (is it because we have boys? would I have been a horrible mother of girls?) and the messy kitchen? So me.

    I’ll be glad to follow your journey!


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