This is an experiment; a public allocation of thoughts, dreams, failures, and successes. It could be a mistake, it could be the most profound thing I do, or it could be a mere blip in the human timeline that few will ever notice. It’s more likely the latter, but does that make it any less useful?

I started out rather strong at the beginning of the year, thinking I might test out some writing, explore some fictional amusements, and maybe find some truth somewhere in this blather. I stumbled and stopped for awhile, but now find myself yearning to continue the experiment. It’s not unusual. In fact, it’s downright mediocre and common to come and go on a blog like this. In fact, I hesitate to even write this insignificant little missive. It’s tiring to read, much less write.

However, the drive is still there. No matter what I do to suppress my desire to communicate, it still trickles up through my subconscious and keeps tapping away at me while I’m awake. I dearly wish it would lie dormant and stay quiet. It’s much too much work to prattle away like this; unable to accurately express the visions inside. But, it will not lie still.

And so, I suppose the only solution is to continue the experiment and observe where it goes.

Today, I’ve begun a five day retreat from work. I took off to clean and repair the house: the broken latches and dirty corners that are the constant reminder of my neglect. But, I also took off to focus on this experiment as well; to redirect my efforts on a project that brought me clarity and joy at the beginning of the year. I needed a break in the timeline; a slap in the face, if you will, that stands in stark contrast to the automated life I normally engage in.

I have no idea where this is going, or if it will produce anything. I do know, however, that it is far more important that I do something creative. The format of the creativity may change from time to time, but the effort has to be constant. I’ve realized how quickly I fall when I stop creating — it’s a free fall into self-indulgent hell. I don’t recommend it. It’s far more useful to just create and act on those imaginative impulses.

Despite the appearance of tumbleweeds floating across the pages of this blog, I have been busy. In fact, I write daily, only it’s personal, something shared between the binary pages of my journal and the me that insists he must write. That doesn’t mean that the goal has changed, or that the stories have turned into ghostly apparitions of a forgotten dream. I’ve come to see this as a period of incubation, in which the author, me, tries to understand what it means to be a writer, takes the writing to a deeper level and begins to absorb the lessons of those who came before him.

I’ve been reading a lot of Hemingway lately, mesmerized by his use of dialog to reveal the emotion behind his characters and the terse, yet descriptive, prose that seems to flow through a story with ease. I’ve also found Anton Chekhov, who wrote delightfully short vignettes about life in 19th century Russia and taught the world what a short story could be. But, it’s not all dead writers and archaic prose. I’m also about to embark on my first Neil Gaiman novel, American Gods. However, I have to admit to a certain paucity in my knowledge of contemporary authors. I seem to be stuck in the reading lists of my college literature courses. And so, I’m actively pulling together a more contemporary list to accompany all those dead authors.

In addition, I’ve been reading about the craft of writing. Books such as Natalie Goldberg’s “Writing Down the Bones” and Stephen King’s “On Writing” are always close by. I read these in short bursts. They are like amphetamine boosters to the creative brain.

During this period of reflection, I’ve realized something important about the craft of writing: to be a good writer you must read great works. All writers share a common thread of skill and knowledge. In a way, we’re like the first open source hackers; learning from, stealing, and mashing together all the great works that came before us. We’re also like time lords as we scuttle through centuries of stories and wonders that teach us about writing, the human condition, and the common themes that interweave throughout history. I’m finding that the quality of the reading I engage in has a direct correlation to the quality of the writing I spit back out.

So, even though I have felt some pang of regret at not having published the quantity of posts I did at the beginning of the year, I feel that the work I have been doing is equally as important. This journey has only just begun.

Good Lord! What happened here? We go 30 days in a row and then, BAM, drop off with nary a whimper. Fear not citizens, for I shall return.

In the meantime, let’s explore a little of what February brought. As I mentioned at the beginning of last month, I’m planning to catalogue a few of each month’s accomplishments here on the blog.

Although not as much of a fun-house as January, this past month was still quite productive.

• I completed my 30 days in 30 posts challenge on the blog. In retrospect, although I wasn’t pleased with all of the posts, I still feel it was well worth the effort.
• I posted 20 articles on the blog, with an average of 943 words per post. The longest article was 4,937 words long for my short story The Buddha of Stilton Falls. There will be more short stories in the near future.
• I read several books during the month (note that these are affiliate links to Amazon):
  • The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life by Twyla Tharp
  • Immediate Fiction by Jerry Cleaver (I’m still working through this one)
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by Lynne Truss
  • Overclocked: Stories of the Future Present by Cory Doctorow
  • Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
  • I’ve started to reread The Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway
• There has also been a lot of soul searching this past month, which I expect will lead to some stronger writing.

I’m looking forward to March; it should be a prolific and creative month.

It’s funny how, sometimes, when I feel like I’m goofing off, I actually discover some of my most profound realizations. During my recent spat of avoiding this blog, I found a vein of gold that led to a nugget of worthy proportions.

I don’t know why, but when I finish one aspect of a project, I often find I completely ignore it for days on end. It’s a nasty habit of mine that seems to only get worse as the years tick by. Of course, my being aware of it makes the pain even more unbearable. So, more often than not, I find myself poking around the internet, looking for that perfect, inspirational moment that will set me on fire again. Of course, it’s rare that that moment of clarity arises. In fact, it’s a near myth.

Except for today.

Today, I found a nugget of information on Wil Wheaton’s blog that led to a broader realization on 43 Folders that led me to a video by Seth Godin, which ultimately made me realize something very important about being an artist: Real artists ship.

Seth Godin: Quieting the Lizard Brain from 99% on Vimeo.

Real artists don’t sit around whining about how awful they are, or how ridiculous their ideas sound, or why they can’t work because they’re tired. They just do. Somewhere inside of them they find the courage to break through that social fear and let things loose. If you’re not letting the products of your efforts out into the world, how can you realistically call yourself an artist, writer, innovator, creator, or whatever you’d like to call yourself?

I’ve run into the same issue when I write software, build a new website, or come up with an idea for work. Sure, I’ve seen many of these ideas through to completion, but most of the time I simply let them fade away in memory; only to be brought back as ways to torture myself, reminders of my failed opportunities.

I can’t call myself an aspiring writer if I’m not writing; if I don’t let these words fly. It’s obvious, but there’s a part of me that does everything it can to prevent me from following through on that very transparent fact. I’ve called it my inner critic in the past, others, like Seth Godin, call it the Lizard Brain. It’s the resistance that tells me to stop, compromise, and hold back on whatever it is I’m about to do. It’s the fear factory and the anxiety drip that feeds me each time I try to step outside my boundaries.

Each insight I have is followed up by an even stronger denial by the lizard brain and his minions of panic and worry. The only cure, is to face them head on, acknowledge them, and then do something productive and practical to counteract them.

For me, that requires sitting down and writing; simple, but demanding. I have to push through those first few hundred words without looking back; denying the critic his urge to correct. If I can make it through the first 200-300 words I’m usually okay; the lizard brain settles down and I can get on with the necessary work. However, those first few moments are sheer hell. They test my mettle every time; and recently the lizard brain has been winning. Except today. I’ve identified him, forced him into the light, and took constructive action to push him out of the way — temporarily.

He’ll be back, but I’m wiser to his game now, more skilled at returning his volley.

30th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

I started the 30 posts in 30 days project on January 21st of this year (2010), just a few days after I arrived home from the Conscious Growth Workshop in Las Vegas. At the time, writing that many posts seemed almost unattainable to me. I knew it might have sounded like a simple goal to others, but I hadn’t written that much in years, if ever, and my goals weren’t very defined. I took the challenge anyway, reasoning that even if it turned out I didn’t have it in me, I would at least learn that much more about my drive to write.

So, to find myself here, on the 19th of February, writing my 30th post, is quite a feat for me. I know, the 29th post was a bit of a stumble, but I at least had the courage to admit that in a small paragraph; and I added to it the next morning. Despite a few stumbles and some rather bleak moments, I think I can be quite proud of having met the challenge to some degree. There are a few posts that I think were really beautiful. So, yay for me!!

It’s been a wonderful, eye-opening journey and I intend for it to continue indefinitely.

At this point, I thought about doing a retrospective, describing what I learned and how it affected me throughout the 30 day journey, but, quite frankly, I thought it would be rather boring for you. Instead, I’m going to lay out some ideas I have for the future.

I’ve covered a variety of topics over the last 30 days and presented them in both fictionalized and non-fictionalized formats. For the time being, that chaotic jumble of odd topics may continue until I find a specific theme that resonates best with me. There are many subjects that haven’t made it to the blog yet: including metaphysics, philosophy, religion, history, death, and psychology. All of these subjects, as well as others, may eventually find their way into a more cohesive theme.

In addition, I plan to add more fiction. While I enjoy the heartfelt essays and memoirs, I find that the challenge of writing fiction is something that appeals to me more. I find that I can more honestly explore my emotions and ideas through the process of telling a tale. As I improve my skill in telling them, I think those ideas will begin to have more relevance for my audience. Eventually, I’d like to think that my stories will help people understand their own lives better through the characters and events I present. I enjoy both types of writing, but I think I may be better wired to tell the stories than to write the essays. I want to both entertain as well as enlighten.

Although many of the essays and stories written so far were entertaining, I’m a little disappointed in the quality and depth of them. I don’t feel as if I was able to explain myself as well as I’d like to. I would also like to add a greater degree of emotion and knowledge to them. So, in the future, I would like to spend more time thinking about what I’m trying to say and refining the writing that goes into them. That will require a greater degree of effort for each post. So, the posting frequency won’t be daily as it has been for the past 30 days. Instead, I plan to post at least 2-3 times per week, sometimes more, but I expect the quality of the writing and the discussions within will greatly improve. Having a full-time job (yes, I know CGW fans have a suggestion for that) requires that I plan out my writing times. So, I’m going to work on a more structured writing schedule. That will also provide me with ample time to keep up on my reading lists as well. To be a great writer, you have to be a great reader.

One thing that may become apparent, if it hasn’t already, is that I’m not a life coach, a personal development writer, or a lifehacker. There may be a little of that interleaved within the pages of this blog at times, but it’s not the primary purpose. I enjoy those types of blogs and I learn a great deal from them daily, but it’s not who I am.

I have an earnest desire to help people, but I will have to do that in my own, unique way. That may mean that some posts won’t always be pleasant, but I don’t think that a blog post has to be agreeable for you to learn something from it. Even a horror story can have some great insights hidden within it. You can often learn a lot more about yourself, by how you react to certain characters, themes, or conclusions. That’s the kind of challenge I think I’ll be better suited for. I’ll leave the life coaching to people who are far more qualified for that than I am.

In order to meet those challenges, I’ll have to go deeper into some rather intense themes and emotions. It won’t be my intention to offend anyone, but I’m willing to accept the fact that there may be some who are offended by something I write or that one of my characters says or does. If you become offended or uncomfortable about something, try asking yourself what is it about that piece that disturbs you the most. You may find out some interesting truths about your own psyche; it may help you grow as a person.

That’s not to say it’s always going to be heavy. Indeed, as has already been demonstrated, I’m a huge fan of both dark and wacky humor. I expect there will be a lot more of that twisted kind of amusement in the future; it’s something that I relish greatly.

You should also expect some changes as I progress; both as a writer and as a person. I’m growing along side the rest of you, which means I’m going to make some mistakes here and there. The learning process can be a little wobbly at times. That means changes in writing style, observations, and conclusions may reveal themselves in awkward ways before their fully refined. My pledge to you, though, is that I will always strive to be as truthful and entertaining as I can be. I’m going to give you as much of myself as I can muster through the pages of this blog.

Finally, thank you, truly thank you, to everyone who has supported my efforts so far. I hope you continue to find the journey enjoyable. I know I would like to provide even more entertainment and value in the future. So, if you’ll stick around long enough you may just find something magical happening.

29th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

I don’t have much time tonight. The reasons are immaterial, but it does pain me to have to fizzle out here on the 29th post. I’ll make it up to you with more stories in the future. I think it’s fairly obvious that I’ve enjoyed myself over the past month. Tomorrow, on the 30th post, I’ll do an evaluation of what I’ve learned throughout this project.

Update — Staying Prepared

Ok, so last night I really fizzled out here on the old blog, and it taught me a valuable lesson: If you’re going to be sticking to a scheduled activity, especially one in which other people expect you to keep, then you had better be prepared with some emergency material to work with.

Between the time constraints last night and my addled brain I missed out on providing something useful on the 29th post. That hurt, which is probably why I’m writing a quick update this morning. I couldn’t just leave the 29th post a mess like it was.

There may come a day in the future when I’ll have so many ideas and partial stories started that I won’t have to worry about running out of article material. However, in the beginning like this, it’s been somewhat difficult to keep up. I took the hard route and tried to come up with something fresh every night after work. That wasn’t easy, and as fulfilling as it was to meet that challenge each time, it would have been easier if I’d had a few articles to draw on in reserve. If you’re going to try this kind of experiment, I recommend that you have a couple of articles written and put to the side for occasions such as this. You don’t need many, just a few that will help you on those few nights that just aren’t working for you.

27th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

I’ve noticed something recently. The more I play, the more creative I get. I don’t mean lazy, mind-numbing, passive kinds of play. I’m talking about a more active kind of entertainment. The kind of recreation that gets you actively involved in whatever it is you’re doing. Sometimes it’s just being silly. Other times, it’s about being mischievous, and maybe a little devious; like playing a harmless trick on someone or teasing them just a tad too far. Sometimes it’s about thinking up a riddle, wondering what would happen if a dog could talk, or pondering how bad a morning could get before it rattles an optimist. I’m particularly fond of dancing and singing ridiculous songs for my dogs. The looks on their faces are priceless; if I’m lucky, sometimes they’ll sing and dance with me — it’s a grand, silly time.

These wholesome amusements seem to get my mind working overtime; I feel a sense of wit and curiosity; and they brighten my mood, and subsequently those around me as well. In a way, by playing I’m telling the universe I’m ready to spread good cheer, that I’m open to be a conduit for imagination.

When I do the opposite — when I’m overly pensive, caught up in my own self worth, or dwelling on a sense of failure — I find my creativity dips to new lows. I find it harder to write, my imagination turns to mush, and my problems just seem to grow.

It’s hard to remember to play when you’re feeling empty, but it’s precisely that moment when I most need to entertain myself. Those are the times when getting silly may just be the most important thing I do all day!

So, take it from me, kick off those shoes, let down your hair, and get downright jester like. Be the fool! Embarrass the hell out of yourself! Step outside that hard candy exterior you’ve been building up all day and just let loose!

You’ll be amazed at how good you feel. I promise it won’t harm you. In fact, I would bet it’s one of the healthiest activities you can do for yourself. Just make yourself laugh for a good 20-30 minutes and I guarantee whatever problem you’re facing will seem less daunting afterwards.

Laughter seems to open up the mind and make it more susceptible to new ideas. It’s that creative whack on the side of the head that we’re so often looking for. Without it, we take ourselves too serious, dwell on trivial matters, and find ourselves slipping further into states of blue that rival the deepest oceans.

Yet, even more useful than a good laugh, is a mirthful sense of good cheer and an honest appreciation for the good things all around you. When you take the time to admire the beauty in people and places, you’ll find a deep sense of gratitude welling up inside of you. You’ll find you’re loosening the shackles that bind you to those dimly lit centers within, and freely experiencing the wondrous gifts that have always been right there in front of you. There’s so much to explore in your daily life, so many sources of inspiration, that you can’t but feel grateful to be alive and lucky enough to be witness to it all.

Then, take it one step further, and start to play. Amuse yourself with simple riddles, imagine your life in a different part of the world, tickle your creativity by taking a few minutes to draw a cartoon, go take a ride in your car and sing as loud as you can, tell someone the funniest joke you can remember, or just go dance with your dogs.

When you start to feel that awareness of genuine joy, you’ll begin to see the creativity seeping back into your life. Your mind will come up with the most amusing anecdotes, and you’ll find that your imagination begins to accelerate in ways you couldn’t have realized before.

By letting play enter in your life, you’re giving your mind a chance to rest; you’re letting all those troublesome issues run in the background for awhile while you’re conscious mind gets a much needed break in the action. When you get back, you may just find the solution to that problem you were agonizing over.

So, do yourself a favor, be silly and play, especially when you don’t feel like it. You’ll thank yourself for it later.

26th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

It happens every once in awhile: I find myself slowly drifting back into a caffeine haze, jonesing for that next espresso fix. The once a week trip to Starbucks turns into a daily event, and I become so familiar to the baristas that they have my drink ready before I show up. My specialized gold card, with my name embossed in shiny letters, gets refilled, and espresso becomes a regular addition to the daily routine. I can walk through the door of any of several cafes in this town and be greeted by name. It’s nice to be known, but it’s also costly.

Caffeine catches up to me. As much as I enjoy the taste, it’s the high I can do without. It makes me nervous, jittery, and ultimately dead tired. The more caffeine laced drinks I consume, the less energy I have; precisely the opposite effect that most people are looking for.

Caffeine works by blocking the effects of adenosine, a brain chemical associated with sleep. It stimulates the body into thinking it’s being attacked; pupils dilate, heart rate increases, blood pressure begins to boil, and the digestive system starts to slow down. Our bodies react almost instantly to the intrusive effects of a caffeine injection, making it a rather efficient drug. Plus, it’s a psychoactive drug, the cousin to such superstars as morphine, nicotine, and cocaine. Better living through chemicals, right? Unfortunately, it’s a short-lived high, and, like all drugs, you have to keep going back to maintain that state of agitation.

In the end, all caffeine really does is rob me of my energy. My body works overtime while I’m flying high off those little Arabica beans. As good as they are, I just can’t afford the energy drain. By the end of the day, I’m listless and uninspired.

So, I’ve decided to oust her from my life once again. Yes, it’s true, I’ve been through this before. I’ve experienced the dopesick headaches, the agitation, the sudden lashing out at imaginary problems exacerbated by an overly sensitive system begging for an espresso fix.

I can’t for the life of me remember why I started back up again. I’m sure all it took was a moment of weakness. “Oh it’s just one espresso,” I thought, “What’s that going to hurt?” Six months later, I’m racing down the boulevard, screaming at people to clear the path as I make my way to the nearest coffeehouse. Believe me, people are more than obliged to let the coffee fiend through.

So, how do I do it? How did I break this habit before?

For me, it always has to be a clean break. Tapering my consumption a little at a time is about as good as saying I’m only going to do a half hit of smack. If you’re cooking, you’re floating, and any amount is good enough to keep you a junkie. No, it’s better if my relationship with the caffeine siren ends abruptly. She’s a lovely lady, and I love her dearly, but I only prolong the agony of the inevitable. I’m sorry, my dear, I’m afraid this is the end of the road for us. It’s easier if I just push through the detox, and come out clean on the other end.

Life on the other side of those detox blues can quite wonderful. For instance, when I quit my morning coffee habit, I replaced it with a regular juicing schedule. To this day, I still get up and make 12-16 ounces of fresh green juice to start my day. Naysayers, hold your tongues! There is nothing so lovely as a freshly pressed glass of organic kale, apples, carrots, ginger, and lime. It is my salutation to the sun, my morning oblation to the god of health, and I’ll tell you, there is nothing more invigorating. I attribute this simple switch as one of the keys to the superior level of health I’m enjoying these days.

My recent caffeine haze has not been a morning problem, however, it has been an afternoon affliction, a habit reinstated at some fateful hour of weakness when I wasn’t paying attention. And so, I’ll need to find an equally seductive replacement that is just as healthy as the morning juice is.

To that end, I’ll be trying a small amount of Kombucha in the afternoon for the foreseeable future. Yes, I know, the sharp ones in the audience are quick to point out that this ancient tea has some trace amounts of caffeine in it. It is true, that the brewing process does leave a small amount, but it is such a small amount that the effects are as negligible as decaffeinated coffee. In addition, the fermentation process in Kombucha reduces the small amount of caffeine by at least half.

The benefits of this symbiotic colony of yeast, bacteria, and tea far outweighs any negligible amounts of caffeine that can be found. By promoting detoxification, a stimulated immune system, improved digestion, cancer fighting antioxidants, and other benefits, I would say it is far healthier and less troublesome than my former caffeine relationship.

Yes, there is some controversy over Kombucha. Some say it has no value because it hasn’t been tested in clinical trials. The same can be said of many other so-called controversial practices, such as a raw food vegan diet. I wouldn’t be enjoying the level of health that I have now if I’d listened to all the naysayers about my vegan diet as well.

Certainly, drinking a little Kombucha tea is no more dangerous than a cup of green tea. I’d say it’s actually far less dangerous than the chemically induced diet pills that are on the market these days. I’ll take the thousands of years of Kombucha tea drinkers over your market driven pharmaceutical geeks any day. Do we really need clinical trials for a drink that’s been passed down through generations?

And so, I’m bidding adieu to my caffeine lover once again, and skipping off to enjoy greater energy, a clearer mind, and one less addictive influence in my life.

25th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

More stories are coming, they’re just taking their own sweet time. Part of the problem, is that the stories I want to tell require longer intervals than a quick typing session at the end of the night. In a way, that may be a good sign. I’m trying to think about these stories more; give them more life, stronger characters, and deeper emotion. I’m trying to garner a deeper understanding of the method, but that also means more practice. Unfortunately, some of these practice sessions just aren’t blog worthy. They are snippets of scenes and exercises that are of interest only to me.

Of course, there are also unfinished stories too. There is the beginning of story that I think is quite interesting, but it needs to be finished and then revised. There are ideas for more, but they require a little research. And, there are the plucky memoirs, but I’ve been so focused on the practice, that I haven’t had the energy spew them out for the blog.

And then, there is that sneaky little inner critic that keeps showing up. He’s the guy that, for the past few days, has been relentlessly stealing my sense of humor. He’s over there, right now, stomping up and down on it and laughing like a crazed jester on PCP. Urggh! I hate that guy! He’s so smug.

After tonight, there are only 5 more posts before I’ve hit my 30 posts in 30 days goal. I’m really, very stoked about it too. It has opened up a whole new set of ideas for me to pursue.

Yet, it has also plagued me with a new set of skills that I need to master. I feel very much like I did when I began my programming career. I wanted to have the skill, knowledge, and insight that I have now at the beginning. The only problem is that it took several years for me to get to this point as a software developer. In between, I studied nearly every language out there, wrote hundreds of thousands of lines of code, and studied even more code from other code jockeys. Writing is very similar, especially fiction, in that it requires tremendous amounts of dedication, perseverance, and practice to master. I have a good start, but I’m realizing how clunky my writing can be at times. My only solace is that, a year from now, or five years from now, I’ll be able to look back on these early days and be proud of the gumption I had, that I stuck my nose out there and told the world that I wanted to tell stories.

So, I hope you’ll forgive me for this short, boring post. I expect the next few days will have a few ups and downs as I try to finish out the project with honor. Yet, to tell you the truth, I’m looking forward to what will occur after the project is complete, when I can begin to focus on longer term projects that have greater depth. Of course, I will continue to post to the blog, just not on a daily basis; more likely 2-3 times a week with a greater emphasis on stories and articles.

And, please, never mind the idiot in the jester cap over there on stage left. He’s really just an attention whore at best.

24th in my series of 30 posts in 30 days.

I’m working on a short story that I hope to have ready for tomorrow. Unfortunately, fiction can be a fickle beast at times: some days I blaze through a story, while others require deeper reflections and pauses while I try to give the story the respect it deserves.

In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about some of the choices I need to make, and how too often I come to these metaphorical forks in the road and have no idea which way to turn. I’ve often found myself stuck in the middle, unable to make a decision for fear of making the wrong one. What if I don’t like that road, I think, I might have to backtrack! It’s not unusual for me to camp out there for awhile, and just wait for insight to whack me upside the head with certainty. Unfortunately, it never seems to arrive.

The truth is: the less I do, the more indecisive I become. Nothing is certain, and if I’m camped out waiting for this mythical sense of surety to appear, it’s pretty much a given that I’m going to be sitting there until I run out of time. Meanwhile, those who did make choices are far ahead of me enjoying the rewards of their efforts.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.

“Which road do I take?” she asked.

“Where do you want to go?” was his response.

“I don’t know,” Alice answered.

“Then,” said the cat, “it doesn’t matter.”

~ From Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

In the Disney movie, I believe this was followed by: “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there.” And it’s true. Any choice is better than no choice.

Even if I decide the choice I made is not going to continue to sustain me, it would be a mistake to think I need to stay on that path. I create my own infrastructure; I’m the one who puts that fork in the road to begin with. So, if I find the choices I made are not providing me with the life I need, then it’s up to me to find a new path. That power lies within me, no where else.

Yet, why must there only be two choices in a given situation? Is it true that there are only two paths?

There’s nothing inherently wrong with a binary choice. Some situations only provide two distinct solutions. However, I have to think that these are more likely the exception rather than the rule. Most situations are not black and white. Most situations usually contain remnants of either extreme.

For example, I made the mistake early on in this blog of thinking I had to choose between becoming a fiction writer or a non-fiction writer. However, through the course of working through the 30 days project I’ve realized I can be either at any given time. There are times when fiction will get my message out better. Sometimes, a memoir of something that happened in my life is the wiser choice. Other times, I may find that a small bout of journalism fits better. There may even be a combination of these choices that makes more sense. For example, my piece on trying karaoke for the first time contained elements of all three.

The point is, life decisions don’t need to be made as either/or choices. Most of the time there is a middle ground, some combination of our extremes, that makes far greater sense than focusing on the two polar opposites we’ve come up with. In fact, the anxiety of having to choose between the polarity of these decisions is most likely what causes me to camp out in the middle of the road to begin with.

It’s when I look at the situation creatively, and find the path that is not only less taken, but uniquely my own, that I find it’s easier to choose and begin taking action. And that makes all the difference.