Today I wanted to quit. I’ve procrastinated for over an hour and a half, and my morning routine will be incomplete. Doubt kept circulating in my head. I feel like I have absolutely nothing to say. It’s been six plus years of writing every day… maybe today it ends. Done.

Well, the fact that these words are written here says that I beat today’s demons. That said, it feels painfully cliche to write about how hard it is sometimes to write. Trite.

It’s a day to remember that if every day was easy it wouldn’t be worth doing. A day to remember that it’s not every day that we can do our best work, and in fact 50% of those days will be our worst 50%. You can’t do better than that on average, the math doesn’t math.

My fingers are moving, words are appearing before me, constructed from thoughts in my head, and another Daily-Ink will be published. I didn’t quit. I also didn’t add any real qualitative value, but I didn’t quit.

Tomorrow will be easier. I say that rather unconvincingly, but with honest hope. Sometimes the blank screen is daunting, and painful to look at. It’s a prison wall more than a screen. Today was one of those days. I’ve scaled the wall, not step by step but word by word, flowing better now because the page is no longer blank. The prison break was successful.

But am I really free? Is my choice to write daily an opportunity for artistic expression, or is it a life sentence? Today it feels like the latter. When that feeling comes more than 50% of the time, I will need to consider freeing myself, but for now I’ll keep writing.

Writing is my artistic expression. My keyboard is my brush. Words are my medium. My blog is my canvas. And committing to writing daily makes me feel like an artist.