It didn’t matter so much that I told a few people that I was going to start blogging again at Life in the Short Lane, because they, of course, had enough sense not to believe me. Heck I didn’t either. But when I ordered my new business cards to go to the Blissdom Conference in Nashville, and implied it in print right there on them, albeit in a vague way, almost exactly nine months after launching The Travel Belles, I think I had already made up my mind to it.
Sometimes a part of me acts without consulting with that other part that thinks too much. The thinker loves saying, “No,” while the rogue’s job is to always stay a step ahead. The rogue is why I do things I’m not altogether comfortable with.
Of course the fact that it was nine months, the time it takes to grow a baby isn’t lost of me. This is just the kind of thing I, as an over-thinking creative run with, spend days pondering and dreaming on, writing cryptic notes to myself on sticky notes that I find stuck to the bottom of things, never to be seen again, until I find them stuck on the bottom of something else; their purpose hopefully accomplished nonetheless.
I squeeze meaning out of things like nine months, enjoy working words until their head hurts and my heart aches, totally in love with the concept of such an awesome metaphor for my entrepreneurial journey so far in starting my magazine about travel for women. (And to get the question out of the way, yes, you can call yourself an “entrepreneur” even if you’ve yet to earn one bent penny.)
I’m looking forward to writing about a few things I’ve learned during this gestation and whatever it is that I will be working my way through next. Most days I have no idea what that will be, but I’ve got a need to be here and write and unless the way the world tilts suddenly gives us an extra hour or two in a day, not very much time to do it, at least not the way I am prone.
But the deal I’ve made with myself is this: There is no time for word wrangling. None.
Blogging here has to be on a schedule just like everything else. I’m going to practice getting what I write here stripped down to the essentials, but without the luxury of the stripping part. No building up, just to break back down. I’m going to attempt to write in a manner totally devoid of the fruits of excess thinking.
I’m assigning myself a word count and a time limit. Getting over some of the crap that is still left in my life to get over. Halt the trudge towards a perfection that I’ve long known doesn’t exist, but sometimes just feels like the fun and easy option.
It may seriously suck. But I’m going to work to under think. “It’s not like it’s brain surgery,” the cynical say when discussing the relative usefulness of creativity, but maybe doing it a new way, for myself anyway, kind of is.