Reading time ~ 4 minutes.
After my first Wonder Full post, a friend texted to say be patient with the project and remember I’m doing it for myself. She knows me well and was worried I’d be hurt if there weren’t a bunch of likes or enthusiastic engagement. I appreciated her concern but told her it honestly wasn’t necessary. Before I clicked “publish” that first time, which felt like free falling into a cavern of vulnerability, I had written down the reasons why I wanted to do this. Consulting it periodically has kept me on track.
The first goal was simply to commit. Multiple times I’d set targets to write a certain number of words per day or per week, and I’d be good for awhile then taper off. I figured if I publicly declared I was writing a blog/newsletter, I’d be more likely to hold myself accountable. And it mostly worked, except the second goal was consistency. I had intended to post for 52 consecutive weeks and made it to 29 before skipping the week between Christmas and New Year’s. I knew the world would keep turning if I didn’t get the post out. I knew no one would fault me and most people probably wouldn’t/didn’t notice, but it was about not letting myself down on this commitment (especially after going strong for almost 7 months). I was disappointed when I broke the streak. But at the same time, it was freeing. I needed the week off, and I gave myself permission. I learned to let myself let myself down, and that was invaluable.
The third reason I took this challenge was to test whether I wanted to write as a side hustle or something more. I’d read that writers write because they can’t not write, but I wasn’t sure if I fell in this category. (Short answer: I don’t.) I write as a way to reason. When I’m upset or don’t understand something, writing about it, even if just in my journal, helps tease out the threads that would otherwise stay tangled in my mind or my chest. Writing brings clarity and sometimes catharsis. But I’ve found it’s not something I need to do every day or every week. I’m now more in awe of journalists who meet daily deadlines, clergy who crank out inspiring content every Sunday, and writers who publish book after book.
The fourth hope I had was that writing would get easier, faster, more efficient. I assumed my skills would improve with putting in the reps the way I expect with other pursuits, like shooting free throws or hitting a backhand. But I can’t say I’ve gotten better or quicker—it’s still painstaking to produce even 800 words—and that’s frustrating. I hear that’s not unusual even for professional writers. Markus Zukas rewrote the first section of the The Book Thief, one of my favorite novels, somewhere between 150-200 times, “Because he believes it makes the writing stronger.” Damn, dude, how strong does it need to be? Is draft 187 really that much better than version 59? It makes me think great writers must also be masochists.
In a similar vein, goal number 5 was to dial down my perfectionism a notch or two, and here I’ve been partially successful. There were a few posts that I would have preferred to edit more but I published anyway because it was late on Sunday (or early on Monday, like this one). Surprisingly, those were sometimes the ones that had the most positive responses, which was another interesting lesson—there’s no way to tell what’s enough or what will resonate. And yet, I still have some work to do on the perfectionism front—even though I write about being gentle in the face of our flaws, I beat myself up when I find a typo or grammar error after a post has gone out. Aaargh.
The last and most important reason I wanted to do this project was to tune in to wonder. It’s been easy in recent years to get caught up in all that is wrong with the world and wrong with people who don’t see the world the way I do. I realized I needed to change my focus, since this was within my control and easier than trying to change other people. I’d read that keeping a gratitude journal has positive mental health effects because it prompts people to be attentive for things they’re thankful for during the course of each day. I hoped that writing about wonder would have a similar effect, and I think this has also been successful to a degree. When I’ve posed questions on Monday, I really have weighed them extensively during the week, in part, of course, to figure out what to write when the weekend rolls around, but also to bounce them around in my brain to clarify what I think. Although getting the words out every week has sometimes been difficult, the wondering itself has been challenging and fun.
Looking back on the 51 posts has helped me see I do want to keep Wonder Full going (100 weeks of wonder?). At the same time, I plan to slow the cadence and decrease the writing load, which I’ve done already over the last 5 months since Walter’s lymphoma diagnosis. I’m considering an altered format with shorter posts and fewer questions but continuing the quotes and prompts to wonder, and possibly sharing pieces from other sites. As always, I am open to suggestions.
Thank you to all for your kind comments about this project and queries about Walter, who is doing well, thus far. We’ll test in a month to see if the immune therapy is working.
❤️🙏
My gratitude journal today says I am thankful CB is going to keep writing! Our world is still full of challenges that are often “outside our circle of influence”. So posing thoughts to allow us to wonder is a wonder-ful escape and might just spark a change WITHIN our circle of influence.
Oh my, I can relate on so many levels. What comes to mind when you’re describing the lessons you’ve learned (and continue to work on) is a handy tool developed by none other than Brene Brown. Permission Slips. This one on perfection:
“I give myself permission to stop at “good enough”, to get it wrong, or to allow it to be, (gasp!), messy. Done is better than perfect.”
Sending love, peace, and joy. So happy you will continue this post. It’s a great way to start off my Monday! ✨