How to return from a break
Thawing out the writing muscles
Dear reader,
What they don’t tell you about taking a break is that it’s always easier to stay home, to abandon the practice/community/hobby, even if you really, truly, love it. In my political organizing, I’ve found myself on the brink of burnout and frustration and walked away. I’ll take a break and find myself unable to return. I’ll never really know if it was the right call, and I know my heart still aches for the very thing that wore me out.
In recent years, I’ve built up a muscle of saying “no” (unless of course, it’s to a bike ride) and have my work-life balance in order. And I can feel that it’s time to course-correct–how do I know when to say “yes”? How do I know when the busyness is welcome, the exhaustion satisfying? When do I push, when should I rest?
This newsletter has been an experiment for me, following the delight of blogging about my PCT hike. I was curious what I would write about, how my writing might improve when not tapping out words in a motel bed, and, to be honest with you, if I was doing it all for validation.
I had hoped that a winter break would reveal a greater purpose for my writing–why I want (or don’t want) to continue, and what I want to write about. Dear reader, during that break I did not think about the blog. I fretted a bit, but no answers were shown to me. Instead, I devoured books of gorgeous prose and books of silly romances. I sat in the sun and braced against the cold. I had a lovely break, but inspiration didn’t visit my idle hands.
I did figure out a few things about myself–I need more sleep than I’ve ever allowed myself. I love narratives with rich natural settings. The more mention of soil and leaves, the better. And I’m terrified of writing that bores me, or you.
Now that I’ve savored lazy mornings and sprawling free time, I’ve put off returning to the blog. But, I’m itching to write. Typing now feels like a relief. I have new questions for my writing this year: what might I want to try beyond the personal essay? How might nurturing my writing make my days feel richer? How can I sharpen my words, and forgive my shortcomings?
To answer some of those questions, I don’t want to wrangle all of my writing into the container of a newsletter. As I try and create a more nurturing writing practice with more quality writing time, how do I remove the pressure of it all being polished? Or publishable? Or perfect?
So, what can you expect this year? Mostly the same as before–perhaps you won’t notice a change. But here’s what I am committed to:
Fewer essays, and fewer overall posts–my focus will be on writing consistency, not posting consistency
More trail journals, because they bring me joy
More film photography & the details of daily life
A handful of trail guides
I hope your year has been off to a lovely start!
Happy trails,
Mumble
My favorites from 2023:
