I spent some time with a few close friends this past weekend. They are the friends I don't see all the time, but when we do it's awesome. We spend the whole day (if we can get it) catching up, laughing ourselves sick in the stomach (yes, still in our 30's), and talking over struggles (going through life together). It's a little bit of everything and it's one of my favorite relationship dynamics in my life.
This past weekend 3 of the 4 of us were traveling to visit the 4th who was having a last hurrah before spending several months out of the country (our Christian-gypsy-free-spirit-missions-traveler-friend). At one point during the visit, one of the others asked me how my 31 Project was going. I cringed a little, because I'm not exactly where I want to be. I've made progress, but I'm not where I should be with only 4 months left until my deadline (birthday number 32). Interestingly enough, blogging has been my lowest numbered achievement so far. I told this to my friend who asked, and she immediately zeroed in on it. "Are you the type who won't post something unless you think it's profound?" she posed.
And that's exactly it. I hesitate to write just to write. I want it to mean something, to be creative, unique, perfect...or at least, perfect in my own estimation (darn type-a perfectionism rearing it's ugly head). That's not the point, though. If I want this to become a habit, if I write because I love to write and hope to share out of my experiences in life, then I just have to do it, "profound," or not.
Side note: I seriously don't think I'm thebomb.com (1998 called and want's it's catchphrase back!), but I do hold myself so an impossibly high standard. Just so, carefully crafted, only draft (forget rough draft, revision, and final), done right the first time, or not worth doing.
As I sat there, instantly the thought popped into my head that this is exactly what I do in life, too. If I can't go into it knowing that it will go well (being able to craft an experience into what I want it to be), then I don't want to try it. So I'm sitting at home, not doing things, and not even writing either, because I'm too afraid. As one of my college roommates would say: "lame-sauce!"
We look at rough drafts as inferior, sometimes. But isn't that what life is? One rough draft after another. And there is such value there; after all, without the rough draft, where would it all begin?
AR - I just want you to know that I didn't make any edits after initially typing this - viva the rough draft! And I'm terrified...have grace for typos ;).