I probably won’t post this

This blog is intended to be a tool for me. I use it to develop a voice. To clarify my ideas. To help me know what content to add to my book, Selfulness.

Only, I’ve let it fail me.

I have hundreds of posts that have been started that will never see the light of Internet day.


At the same time, I literally have no readers besides myself. I don’t even know who I’m talking to when I write this. (Actually, I do. Hey Steve! Well, Steve and Julia—my imaginary readers. They’re characteristics change from time to time, but I’m essentially telling them what I wish I had read just a few years ago.)

Ok, so tons of starts, and no readers. Should be perfect, right? Should be the perfect combo for getting a blog full of posts that will eventually become awesome.

And yet, I don’t know how to hit publish.

I don’t know how to finish the blog posts.

I get a lot of good starts, but then I get lost in the middle.

Maybe that will be the new name of my blog, “lost in the middle.”

Nope. That domain is already owned by someone else.

Regardless, my point is, it’s amazing how difficult it is to finish anything creative. It’s like, once you hit publish that item defines you. And it is difficult for a person like me to want to be defined.

I like being spontaneous.

I like being unexpected.

I like knowing that the possibilities are endless. But if I am defined, then there is a specific path that I will take.

But what I often forget is that everything that has physical form is defined. You can’t escape it. You can, however, influence it. You can take a selful approach to nudging your definition closer toward your values. Closer toward your perceived ideal. Closer toward what feels authentic and genuine and desirable.

And so, maybe it’s ok to post something I’m not proud of. Post something that isn’t perfect. Something that rambles and is boring and unfocused.

Something that nobody will read anyway.

Because at this stage, I’m writing for myself.

And if somebody else happens to be reading, well, I’m sorry.

But it’s not as if I didn’t warn you.