Constraints - and a draft amnesty

I want to start writing again. Writing is a form of vulnerability. ‘Is it safe?’ I realise I am asking myself in all types of camouflaged ways. Will I write something I regret?

I have always liked the Marie Kondo line that when you are tidying, you will sometimes regret discarding items. ‘At least three times’, I think she promises. But that you will also discover that those regrets are eclipsed by the joy that the transformation in your environment has given you.

So I will tell myself that I will sometimes regret things that I write and that it will be ok. I might embarrass myself. I might say things that I change my mind about. I don’t generally hold extreme views, which is almost a liability in a world where not holding extreme views is sometimes seen as a crime. I have sometimes in the past felt awkward about the strange range of my interests, wondering whether I will alienate people interspersing them, but I am feeling far more self-assured about just being myself these day.

I also found myself paralysed by the ‘nearly finished’ drafts of posts that I have sitting around and I realised that I needed a tidying process there. Although I wouldn’t label myself as an Effective Altruist as such, not long ago, I read about a ‘Draft Amnesty Week’ on their forums, and I really liked the idea. So I’m going to have my own personal draft amnesty, going through them one by one and either posting them in relatively unpolished form or deleting them if I don’t think there is anything salvageable.

I am at a slightly odd point in life at the moment. I’m on crutches, almost certainly with a torn knee ligament, awaiting scan results to find out if I will need surgery. There are worse things that could happen of course, my work is luckily remote, I’m not in pain and am keeping in reasonable spirits, but large aspects of my life have been thrown upside down. I can do a lot of things but in a slow, complicated way and there are lots of things that I can’t do, including driving, carrying large objects and anything where time is of the essence (the world now seems full of pesky escalators!). I have cancelled trips I was looking forward to. I’ve also realised how much of my regular routine is full of movement-related activities: jiu jitsu, yoga, tai chi, going to the gym and walking. Suddenly I have an almost bare schedule.

But I’m also finding joy in doing things slowly. I am being far more intentional in what I do actually do. My usual routines are disrupted which turns out to be an opportunity to discover better ones. My children are learning to do a whole new range of household tasks. I am learning the art of asking for and gratefully receiving help, both at home and outside. Having so many constraints on life makes me appreciate far more the things that are available to me. The short walk on a paved path in our local country park is now something special.

So I think this is a good time to start writing again. Let’s see how it goes!