When our greatest intentions as a writer take a nose dive into a silent abyss.

I was all geared up in May to start a bi-weekly blog and express my love of words with those I might help. I wanted to connect, share ideas and laugh with you. I still do, but between you and me was a big wall I couldn’t manage to get over.


So, there I was in May getting ready to write my first blog. I had actually written a few but none that I felt were worthy to publish. Instead of sharing my words, I swallowed them. Combine that with some time management issues, a big move and the serious medical issues of a loved one, and you’ve got the Great Wall of China. My follow-through dissolved like vapor.

I don’t know what I was afraid of other than failure but so what, right?

Would it kill me if no one read my blog?

I can answer that question in all honesty. To date (two months after writing my first blog), I think the only person that has read it might be my web designer, and I’m not even sure he read the whole thing. Yet, I am still alive and well and I’m even smiling about it. Imagine the wonder in that.

The significance of writing something on May 5th prompted me to push through my fears. I hit the “publish” button late in the evening of Cinco de Mayo and gave a sigh as I mentally checked something difficult off the list. The blog was published but it certainly wasn’t polished. There were no fancy headers and I didn’t even like the picture I posted of myself. I was exposing a raw side of me that was anything but glamorous.

If you’ve ever had your mug shot taken, you know what I mean.

I didn’t promote that blog or even share it on social media (perhaps this is why no one read it, ha ha). I think subconsciously, I was still afraid to open up.

The following weeks swept by like sand in a windstorm. Many times I felt prompted or inspired to write another blog. With the best of intentions, I even jotted down some titles, intending to finish them “later” like:

“I’ll take the peachy, no pits please.”
“3 signs to knowing you’re crazy.”
“Let’go my ego.” and
“The mind is a terrible thing to… oh, look a squirrel.”‘

I’ve swallowed some of these so deep, I don’t even remember the content. Life got in the way, like it does when you let it, and so my good intentions died like the mouse my cat just caught from the field behind our home. It’s dead on my doorstep.

Oh crap. It’s not dead. I just went out back to take a picture of the unlucky rodent for you, but, to my surprise, it was alive, albeit breathing heavily. It actually looked kind of cute. Funny how that same mouse was anything but cute when it was inside my house.

Anyway, when I scooted it out onto the steps a few minutes ago (from under the box I bravely threw over it), the tiny mouse lay lifeless on its side, with mangled fur like miniature roadkill. I blocked the pet door (which my cat is now whining about) so she couldn’t go out and play with the dead carcass or bring it back in the house. I decided I’d wait for my husband to get up and dispose of our cat’s token death offering.

This makes a perfect metaphor to the point I want to make.

Your good intentions, my good intentions; they aren’t dead yet. Today is a new day.

Make the best of it and if it’s not your best, no worries. It’s not going to kill you. Get back up when the world tosses you around a bit. Cough up that blog; the inspirational one that serves others and creates a stitch in the fabric of humanity. Be transparent and perfectly imperfect because that’s what we all are. No one is perfect and there’s a perfectly good explanation why.

Humans need to be humbled at times. It grounds us and reminds us of what is really important.

Writing with vulnerability helps others connect with us. Blogging in this way takes bravery. It takes a love of others more than a love of self. So, be brave, be caring and be giving because in the beginning, in the middle and in the end, we only have two choices; fear or love.
Choose love.

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