I made it! Six months of daily writing and I haven’t given in to the desire to quit, even though there are definitely days when I’m like “who cares!? Why am I even doing this? No one would even notice or care if I didn’t blog one day.”

But I would notice and care. I don’t even know why I’ve been dedicated to this, aside from just the general curiosity of whether or not I could do it, and what would happen if I tried. Maybe that’s enough?

I have truly learned a lot. I described a lot of this in an earlier blog and all of that still applies, so that is not what I’m going to focus on. Tonight, I am reminded of when I went to my first sesshin at the zen center. A sesshin is an extended period of meditation; my first sesshin was 12 hours. I arrived at 4:50 a.m. or so. It was winter and the sun wasn’t up. I sat near a west-facing window.

At first, I was tired and antsy at the same time. I drifted to sleep for a while on accident, but I also found my mind bouncing from thing to thing (like normal I suppose). In time, my mind slowed down and I stopped wondering what time it was or how long it would be until the next walking meditation. I started noticing the feel of the light in the room and how it moved across the window. By the time the sesshin was over, the sun had pretty much set and I was in awe of the passing of the day.

There were moments (as there are) of discomfort, frustration, annoyance, boredom, and desire to quit. When meditating, you just sit through them – you let them come like clouds in the sky and let them pass as they will. In a sense, writing every day has become a practice in getting through discomfort, annoyance, the desire to quit, and all those feelings. I just write through them. Even when it’s late and I’m not sure what to write. Even when I just don’t want to. Even when my brain is on overload and I can’t focus on a single place or thing. Even when Annika can’t fall asleep and insists on laying next to me and asking what I’m writing about.

I am feeling pretty proud of this right now. I’m not sure I should be, but I am. It’s been a good practice, even when it’s totally stupid or my thoughts are totally cliched. Those moments come and go. In the end, maybe it’s not necessarily what is written that matters, but the practice of writing.

Deep thoughts for 1:36 in the morning.