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Why I Didn’t Write This Year
My only real regret of the year is that I didn’t write anything of note. It’s not that I didn’t string words together, I certainly did quite a bit of that. We put out a podcast at Yes Theory, I sent a metric ton of emails, and even wrote a little bit of poetry.
I’ve even got seeds of article, book, and video ideas all over my iPhone notes, and multiple journals filled. I sat down to write essays like this one probably 50 times, and now have the equivalent amount of unfinished essays on my hard drive. This is to say nothing of the stack of unfinished books on my night stand and floor, and the projects that were never completed.
It all reminds me of something my grandfather used to tell me as a little girl — “a messy room is a messy mind.” This time the room digital, not physical. But I took a note from Marie Kondo anyways, and just deleted all of the drafts, outlines, and ideas that were on here (and bring me absolutely no joy). Starting fresh feels right.
Because this year just felt like spinning tires. It felt like I poured a lot of love and energy into relationships and projects, only to find myself back where I started. I was fighting for my own will against a world that was imposing a much stronger one.
