As I have embarked on my blogging journey, this year, I have discovered that the stories do not always come as easily as I would like for them to. Of course, there are always stories...however, not every story is suitable for sharing with the general public! So I find myself with a typical case of writers' block- previous posts have brought tears and tugged at heartstrings, and I've struggled with where to go from here. When my students don't now what to write about, I sometimes give them the pat answer of "just write about whatever is in your head" or "pick something from your seed list". We do exercises in "stream of consciousness" or brainstorming, and I expect ideas to emerge. As I think about my own writing, though, I find that I don't want to write something until I have the perfect thing to write. I get all tied up in wondering if anyone will be interested in what I have to say, and I feel stressed out when I think my writing is for no authentic purpose. So today, as I was thinking that I should really just commit to start blogging regularly and watch for the stories to be discovered in the process, it gave me a new understanding of my students' struggles. Just like me, they don't want to write about just any old thing- they want to say something important to the world, and they don't want to waste words on something trivial.
I don't know if this post will mean anything to anyone but me (and I have to accept that and move on), but as I write something that I feel is rambling and nebulous in purpose, I recognize that sometimes ideas can only sprout when those random seeds are sprinkled throughout the garden of thought. In this simple effort to write when I have nothing important to say, I suddenly feel the same frustration my students often do. So what do I do with this lesson learned? I remember that sometimes, even if it isn't important, I should just say something... the rest of the story will come in its own time. And I practice... knowing that my writing can't always be perfect.
I don't know if this post will mean anything to anyone but me (and I have to accept that and move on), but as I write something that I feel is rambling and nebulous in purpose, I recognize that sometimes ideas can only sprout when those random seeds are sprinkled throughout the garden of thought. In this simple effort to write when I have nothing important to say, I suddenly feel the same frustration my students often do. So what do I do with this lesson learned? I remember that sometimes, even if it isn't important, I should just say something... the rest of the story will come in its own time. And I practice... knowing that my writing can't always be perfect.
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