A challenge to write everyday for 30 days. It feels like starting a diet, the same feelings and aversions are triggered. In fact, I just had to stuff half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in my face before I could sit down and write. It’s like, this thing, this writing is something so important to me, something I am dying to do, yet, it causes me so much pain to begin, to just sit my butt down and write something for a few minutes. The same with dieting. I just want to be in shape, I just want to eat well, as my health depends upon it. All I’ve ever wanted to be is skinny, yet I do things daily to derail that dream. And look at this, all I’ve ever wanted to be is a writer. Since I was a child. Truly. And what do I do, come up with 4000 distractions each and every day to avoid making that dream a reality. Funny how things work. (Funny ironic, not funny ha!)
So here I am, day one of a 30 day challenge to write every day. 190 words in. 193. I have 38 more minutes to write. Do I write about what I did last night? I bet you’ll never guess what I did last night, no really. I would give you 1 million guesses and I bet you do no guess what I did last night.
Apropos of nothing my name is Katherine MacKenzie. Mother’s maiden name is Zimmerman. WASP, recovering Catholic, plant medicine, nature loving agnostic or something along those lines. I’m into life and universality and astrology and actually, in all honesty I’m unable or unwilling to commit to one spiritual practice. Just like in everything, I’m all over the map. Anyway, this information won’t help you with your guesses, but it will help me tell you what I did last night.
Last night I sat in as the substitute for the Jewish Rabbi for Friday night services. That’s right, I did the lighting of the candles, of course I didn’t lead the services, the very adept and gracious congregation did that, but they let me sing along, they included me in the reading of the prayers, and I facilitated a lively discussion on the poem, Life & Death, by Rumi. I for one evening was a welcome participant in a religious, cultural ritual that has been practiced for centuries by people that haven’t been talking to “my people” (by a only a very loose affiliation that I cop to only for this story) since time began.
oh, and it was held inside a maximum security prison. I told you you’d never guess. Anyway, that’s what I did last night.
24 more minutes. I have an internet addiction. All I want to do right now is go to yahoo.com home page and read the headlines of the stories listed for the day. 95% of the time I don’t actually click on and read any of the stories, I just read the headlines. Then when I’m done there, I go to huffingtonpost.com and do the same thing. The worse part about it, other than it’s a gigantic waste of time with zero reward or enrichment offerings, is that I do this multiple times a day, so as I read the headlines, I am often reading all of the things I read the day before, or 3 hours ago. I’m so shallow that I can’t even read the shallow, nutrient deficient stories about a star sleeping with his nanny, no, I can only read the headline – over and over.
19 minutes. I won’t make it. I’ve already come up with things that I could be doing right now instead of writing. But hey, that’s ok. I’ve written, and over 600 words, and when I was suppose to. Isn’t that 90% of it. Just showing up. Plus, I’ve already warned you that this blog is all about all of the crap I have to write before I get to the gold. So, mission accomplished! More crap down on paper. Yay! I am so proud of myself I’m almost over the guilt of the Ben & Jerry’s.
Baby steps.
wordstopaige 