Seedlings

Day 3 – breaking the barrier of three consecutive days of writing . . .

They’re dead. The sunflower seedlings planted on Sunday shriveled in Monday’s sun and died by Tuesday morning. I tried to revive them with a spray of cool water, but I was too late. Fortunately a few seeds remain in the package, and I can try again this afternoon.

Faithful care in the early days of any new life is necessary to minimize the effects of the environment and encourage growth. Just as babies need food, warmth and love at regular intervals, seedlings need a regular dose of water. I failed in that simple task to the young shoot’s demise.

It is much the same for me when I am incorporating a new discipline, writing for instance, into my daily routine. I must guard the time with care, not leave it until the last moment of wakefulness, and nourish the burgeoning instinct like a seedling in the hot sun. Otherwise like the tender sprout, the new discipline will wither and fade away.

Routines

Day 2 Again – Routines bolster discipline. Routines also automate some of life’s menial tasks. Today I relaxed through an oatmeal breakfast so much that I had to sprint to my bike right passed the bathroom routines that include objects like a toothbrush, contact lens and deodorant. So later in the morning I ended up smelly and struggling to read.

So Routines are helpful, although I do not fully ascribe to their value life. They do take time, and time spent is never recaptured for the serendipitous moments that breathe life into monotony. If Job’s friends of the Bible were here they would commend me to prudence and balance. These lifeless attributes also smell in their own way.

So for now I’m left to writing larger than normal and to sitting outside in the breeze so the smell is carried away. None-the-less I greatly enjoyed today’s cycling, and the annoyances, that would have been avoided by following a routine, will fade away by the end of the ride.

Discipline

Mulligan, Day 1 Do Over - Discipline, too easily conceived, rapidly turns into unfulfilled dreams. Friday the goal to write for 350 consecutive days fizzled to a wisp of smoke like a fuse on a dud of a firecracker. The jam packed day full of wants and needs pushed out time for writing. Now I'm left with a hollow feeling in my gut carved with the knife of a broken promise to myself.

But today is a new day for crawling back on the bike. Last Wednesday I avoided a small fall by planting my left foot firmly on the ground as my front tire squeezed into a crack on the bike trail in Renton. The near miss did not keep me from clipping in and riding on. So too, I'll move forward and write a little every day. I have to write to keep ideas moving from mind through pen to page. A part of last week's failure melts with each stroke of the pen. Word by word I regain the commitment to myself.

365 Days of Writing for 31 Minutes

Day 1 – June 3, 2009

My mind and my feet spun along easily and automatically. The zone I was in surrounded me completely. I sensed time only in the periphery of movement and ideas. Ideas floated into thought like bubbles surfacing in seltzer. Two prevailed on the surface of my memory throughout the two-hour ride. The one demanded discipline and commitment. Would it last?

Yesterday a friend emailed a short article to me about committing a short time each day to work on a big project. I’ve had a long-term goal to do some writing, but not being a writer, I seem to put of “official” writing into some future time. The article quoted T.S. Elliot, “When forced to work within a strict framework the imagination is taxed to its upmost–-and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom the work is likely to sprawl.”

So, I’m setting a goal, a commitment to write for 31 minutes every day for one year, 365 days! I hope the discipline improves my writing and my life. I chose 31 minutes because it is small and arbitrary, just like the article suggests.