I may have blamed my delay in posting on driving the RV all the time, but as time goes on, I think I need to blame it on just being too busy. The fact is, between planning travels for a day, doing the travels for the day, dealing with breakfast/lunch/dinner and miscellaneous work around the apartment/RV, it's awfully hard to take a few moments to post on what is up.
I've been heard to say that "when we're in the RV it'll be better" but I'm not really sure that will inevitably be the case. We stayed for days in Red Bay and I didn't manage a single post. We spent 2 weeks in DC, and I managed only a really quick post about our travels from Red Bay to DC. Tomorrow is our 1 week "anniversary" in London, and still nothing even on DC, much less London. Shouldn't being in hotels or an apartment be easier than an RV? Yet, so little writing.
I once heard that Stephen King's secret is writing every day. No matter what. Write something. Ditto for Piers Anthony. In his authors notes (now my favorite part of his books), he points out that he writes even if what he writes is junk -- on his second and third revisions he sometimes purifies random nuggets into base metals.
Thinking further, writing every day is the secret to email's effectiveness/insidiousness. Every day/hour/minute/second, there's a new email inevitably with some action -- to write. And that writing so often creates some level of obligation for someone else to email. Repeat. Ad infinitum.
But blogging lacks that interactivity/imperative. That implied obligation to respond with a few words or longer is not there with a blog. No dialectical call to respond for me. Nothing compels me to blog about a day other than my own will power. And after a long day, it's hard to find it. And at the fresh start of a new day, my mind is turned to the future day rather than reflections on the past.
If it cannot get more difficult to feel inspired to write, there is the fact that a blog is published. It's public for all to see. OK. Admittedly, there aren't that many of you out there seeing it, but still, I feel that I have to write, edit and hopefully have something entertaining (and not too embarrassing) before clicking that orange "publish" button. And that adds a level of paralysis a priori to putting fingers to keyboard.
But I know that somehow I must write. The few writings I have done through the years are not brilliant, but they hold the thoughts and reflections of a me that I have long forgotten. And this year is not one I will ever be able to truly replay. The other 42 prior to this also cannot be easily replayed, but I was not so aware of their significance. This year is about my family and our adventure together. And while I want to live it to its fullest by being in the moment, I also want to be able to cherish it in some future moment. And to not forget.
And so, I must write.