Hesitations

I've been skirting a number of un-publicly-expressed goals of mine during the 2010 Blogathon, or so I'd like to say.

I knew when I agreed to participate in the Blogathon that I'd run headlong into a passion of mine or two. Except when meeting a reporting deadline, I don't believe in writing in a hurry. When I'm not working on professional projects or assigned work, I don't want to feel pressured to write, to generate content, to fill the pages. That may be my biggest sticking point when it comes to the Blogathon. Of course, the pressure to write or not write only comes from myself. The rules are only my own. Still, how do I participate in an endeavor like this when what I want to do is speak when I have something to say, and only when I have something to say?

More importantly, why is it I'm not telling the stories mounting up around me? Why do I have half finished drafts everywhere? Why do I have scrawled notes on half of my father's original Lascher at Lascher columns that I've yet to reflect upon? Why am I telling the entire world this precisely at a time I'm trying to develop a professional rhythm, at a time I'm trying to sell myself as an accomplished and diligent and skilled journalist? Why am I not letting my fingers dance upon my typewriter?

My second hesitation has to do with writing about writing. I find writing about writing to be rather expectantly circuitous. Perhaps I'm just watching myself write when I express it, but when there are so many untold stories, so many fantastic reflections to be had, when there is so much to discuss and share and ponder in this world, shouldn't the very least priority be the how in the telling of those stories, the manner in which we reflect upon the world, the tenor of our discussions, the mechanics of our sharing, the method of our pondering [of our madness]?