[Clickbait Title About Failing]

I set out to write. I didn’t. Now I’m writing about it.

In January, without really thinking about it, I committed to writing a thing a week for all of 2017. I figured I could use another challenge in my life, and I really do enjoy writing; when I’m in the zone, a good piece is written in minutes, a direct stream of thoughts runs from my brain to my keyboard. It’s a feeling that is rewarding and empowering, and the work product is frequently quite cathartic.

Early on, I had a tough week — I kept starting drafts of pieces and leaving them with ten or fifteen words. I’d re-open them, and just as quickly close the window. The words wouldn’t flow. So, I said to myself , “Write a music review.” I’d written reviews before — in fact, I used to have a music blog I updated daily. I retreated into the comfort of a construct I understood, and penned a quick summary of the songs I’d listened to that month.

After publishing that work, I felt lame. When I had committed to write each week, I envisioned myself drafting complex blog posts about current events, my challenges and successes, and lessons I’d learned along the way. I did not intend on making a quick laundry list of songs I liked.

Last week, I felt the absence of words again. I had just written a piece I had wanted to write for a few weeks, about my recent injury, recovery, and what physical fitness means to me, and just didn’t think I had anything to say. So I procrastinated, and pushed writing until Sunday night.

Lo and behold, Sunday came and went, and I hadn’t published anything. I blew it.


Last week I struggled to write as well. I was pissed at myself for missing a week, and wasn’t sure I’d keep writing.

Seems like a crazy reaction for just one failure, right?

I missed one week. That’s less than 2% of the year. A tiny roadbump; and yet I almost let it completely derail my plans. That’s how easy it is to fall off the wagon, to stop challenging ourselves, to fail.

And yet here I am, typing away, not sure any of this makes any sense. Why, you might ask? Because how you do anything is how you do everything. The effort matters. Showing up matters. Pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone matters.

Writing a thing a week is outside of my comfort zone. It is a challenge. It is a pain, sometimes. But if I don’t face it, and crush it, then how do I know I can beat the other challenges that might come my way?

The little things matter. They add up to make the big things. I’m back on the wagon this week, and looking forward to sharing more posts in the future.

Like what you read? Give Sam Smith a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.