It just occurred to me that I hate writing blog posts, but I love blogging.
Of course, with each genre of writing, there is consensus towards structure, format, and content specific to the platform. Blog posts, for example, generally call for organizing your information in digestible chunks to cater to the contemporary attention-span. (I’m not judging–most of the time I give up on reading something that requires more than one scroll on my mouse. Isn’t it ironic that I’ve personally written blog posts that take up more than just a few minutes to read?)
I have been reflecting on my lack of progress–or the dreadful slowness of my process with my tarot blogging. I love writing about tarot, so what’s stopping me from sharing what I love with the world? For some reason there is this sense of obligation when it comes to blogging. I tell myself that I need to be blogging regularly to establish an online presence. I tell myself that I need to be typing something down in order to feel productive. I tell myself many things, and usually the stress-dragon gobble me up in the end (after frying my butt from long hours of sitting due to writer’s block).
Gosh. Why is doing what you love so stressful sometimes? I start to think about the blog posts I have actually enjoyed writing. That is not to say that I hated everything single blog post I have ever written. I loved what I wrote–of course I did. Those were my ideas and I wanted very much to share them. Something just didn’t feel right, though.
I look at the blog posts that I feel the most proud of. The ones that I have felt a genuine inspiration for when I composed them. The ones that have a strong personal voice expressed in eloquent writing. The pieces of writing that emerged organically like a deliberate word-growth on my skin, which then manifested itself in the form of words and texts.
Of course! How can I be so blind? What is my tarot blog called? “Fables Den–a tarot story”. In real life, I am a private English tutor and a teacher at a local tutoring centre, and I spent years teaching the rigid forms of academic writing. But what do I really love? Something that comes so naturally to me, something that I would bury my toes and fingers into like a fervent gardener discovering and rediscovering earth every time she goes out into nature to tend her plants and flowers.
When I dive into my personal voice, when I simply let it flow without worrying too much about structure, genre tropes, cliches, concise ways of presenting information…gosh, when I’m just channeling raw spirit and creativity and writing and me-ness, my blog post just flows. The blog posts that came quickly to me were the ones that had a story in it. They didn’t need a topic sentence or an overview blog post intro, they don’t need three supporting details and a militant conclusive ending that wraps everything up nicely. They were just a flash of inspiration, a storytelling piece in which I felt like I had something to say and said it…like this very blog post I am working on right now. I had not stopped once since I started typing, and I am already several paragraphs in.
Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t hate academic writing. If I hated it I wouldn’t be teaching it. I’m just saying that I don’t jam with the “mindset” when I am writing about personal insights, tarot card impressions, etc. I mean, I still use elements of academic writing when I need to convey pieces of information that need to be more streamlined to be understood better. I wouldn’t be able to organize all the materials and exercises when I did my tarot writing series without sectioning it like a textbook, haha.
P.S. This isn’t the only reason I am slow when it comes to tarot blogging…I have a few procrastinatory habits that I aim to confront and discipline this year. I’m a go-with-a-flow kind of girl but sometimes too much of that really stops me from planning and getting things done.
Anyways. I guess what it comes down to is to actively experiment and find out what works and what doesn’t. It helps to be conscious of your writing patterns. Just now, I am realizing that I can’t feel inspired or that I have “flow”–not unless I throw in a few metaphors or two.