For the longest time I was a late night blogger.
I’d work all day – both as a mom and as an employee – and ponder my post for the day. Sometimes I’d take notes, sometimes I’d just file my thoughts away in my head, just waiting for that moment when the house would be settled and I could finally open my computer.
More often than not, by then the post would be stale and I wouldn’t want to write it. Or worse, I would want to write it, but be completely unable to remember what it was I wanted to write.
My motivation to post late at night was fueled by my own blog reading habits. If I started my mornings with a fresh cup of tea and my favorite blogs, it stood to reason that others would do the same. Since I’m always three hours behind the rest of the country, by dint of being on the West coast, I always felt like I had to post before going to bed so the East coasters would have something to read in the morning.
My schedule changed and I relinquished some of my obsessions and poof… started writing in the morning, when my ideas were fresh and the words flowed fast and free. And a miracle happened.
Instead of struggling to come up with good posts, instead of fighting for inspiration and then hitting publish on stuff I thought was sub par, I started being really proud of my posts.
What had started to feel like a chose started to be fun again. What had felt like work started to feel like art again.
If you’re a regular around these parts you might have noticed that I’m not posting nearly as much any more. But what I am posting is so much more me. So much more a part of my soul.
Late in the evening I’m often gripped in a frenzied “I should really post. It’s been days and days.” panic. I pop open the computer and stare at the screen, searching my brain for something, anything. I cycle through my day and my thoughts to see if I can come up with a nugget of something that could grow into a post.
And then I breathe, close the computer, and walk away.
It’s always better in the morning.