At one point not very long ago, geologically speaking, I wrote in a blog of some kind virtually every day. That changed for a number of reasons, including too many of my coworkers getting far too interested in what I was writing. But, also, at the time, I was aggressively single, and wrote about the comic adventures of dating after divorce while nearly middle-aged. And, of course, I wrote about my phantasmagoric year of exploring the inner workings of the health insurance industrial complex as experienced by a cancer patient. Definitely an adventure, but not one I’d advise anyone taking, regardless of how much weight I lost and how quickly it left. In the end, I found it off-putting how many people wanted to comment to my face about whatever frivolous thing I’d posted, not to mention the startlingly wide array of women who seemed to think I had become so lonely that my criteria for a date had slipped to nil.

The thing is, after a surprisingly short amount of time of not writing, I feel like the habit left me to some degree. I lost the momentum of sitting in front of a keyboard on a daily basis and just grinding out words. Now, I wasn’t telling stories so much as I was reporting lived experience and sharing light opinions about vagaries of modern life, but the simple fact that I could sit down and write without hesitation about any number of topics was proof that my so-called writer’s block was a myth. Lately, I’ve seen evidence presented in a number of ways that reinforce this idea. What I feel isn’t really the legendary writer’s block so much as it was fear and laziness. Fear that whatever spewed from my mashing the keys would be so horrible that no one would want to read it, or worse, would laugh out loud at me and point as I walked by. Laziness in the form that to best avoid the disgusting results I feared, it was better not to have begun at all.

Of course, all of that is rubbish. A lie my reptilian hind-brain tells me to avoid making an effort or making a change or inching out of my comfort zone to any small degree. Sadly, dear reader, I know only one way to destroy that particular set of self-imposed handicaps: write and share it. Or, as the kids used to say, the only way out is through. So, let’s see if blogging really is dead or if that’s another myth told by bloggers who have convinced themselves they have writer’s block. So, to conquer my so-called writer’s block, I’m going to write every day. It may not be much and it may not all get posted, but I will write something every day for the rest of the year.