thewritingtodo

You know when you see something so apt to your particular condition in life that it feels like it must have been crafted with you in mind? There's a moment like this in Elina Osborne's It Is The People | A Pacific Crest Trail Film , a gorgeous film documenting Elina's experience hiking the Pacific Crest Trail . The film, while wildly beautiful and showcasing the natural glory of the PCT, is about more than just hiking; vis-à-vis the title, it's all about the people.  But let me back up. I've been thinking a lot lately about how to wrest control of my days back from the uncertainty of the quarantine, a period in which, for me, time has seemed to flow with a passive, impersonal regularity. Every day it is suddenly 4 PM, and, after that, it is suddenly 11. I hate it. Running has helped, as it forces me to focus inward and elongates time in the most painful of ways. Reading has also been gratifying, the turning pages a physical realization of the ticking clock. And yet ...

Hello.  I've always felt that beginnings contain multitudes. They're exciting, of course, because before you lie infinite paths to explore. After all, there are far more words that could be written on an empty page than words that could not. There is great freedom in choice, and it is a privilege to start anew. What a joy it is to wander down an untrodden path. They are also nerve-wracking, for you (and by  you , I mean  I ) are afraid of committing yourself to a project. What if someone should find such a project, and what if someone should criticize it? What if it sucks and they would be right to criticize it?  Beginnings are terrifying. This is unfailingly, frustratingly, profoundly true: relationships, college, uh, blogs. Beginnings are terrifying.  So, what is this?  Well, this is a blog. It's also a long-term writing experiment and a project. Whatever I write in this blog, I hope it will come from the heart and that I can be proud of it. What more is ...