As previously noted, writing requires vulnerability. In order to overcome the impulse to avoid writing, the stakes or the reward must be high enough to make the task worth the risk. One of the rewards for me is that I have something lasting at the end of the day.
In this season, I spend most of my hours doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, or potty-training (STILL). And guess what? The next morning there are clothes in the hamper, everyone is hungry, and there’s a puddle on the floor. I’ve willingly signed on for a long-game here. I’m eight years into raising adults and grateful for the privilege of spending time in my home. I’m one of those people who enjoys cooking and cleaning (potty-training is another story).
Still, it’s hard to look back on a day and try to point to something that was accomplished and realize that on most days, it’s hard to tell I did anything at all. The house is still standing; that took all day. But when I write, I can point to the lower left-hand corner of my Word document and say, “I wrote 753 words today.” And because I’m in a habit of backing up my work, those 753 words will still be there the next day. I don’t have to start from scratch every morning. The words I’m writing will still exist when my children have children. My family’s stories could be around for generations. That’s worth getting over the fear putting my perspective on paper or of getting it wrong. When I write, I’ve done something that lasts.
What rewards make writing worth the risk for you?