During April I'm participating in the A to Z blogging challenge.
Each day, sans Sunday, offers an opportunity to write about a
letter of the alphabet with the goal of writing 26 posts.
April is also National Poetry Month.
Participating in blogging challenges poses a cognitive adventure. I'm not in physical fear but in psychological fear.
- Will I have time to write every day?
- Will I be able to think of enough original ideas?
- Will anyone read and comment on my posts?
- Will my feelings get hurt when I receive "No Comments" glaring at the end of a post?
A blogging challenge is an exercise in endurance, a commitment. People notice when a blogger abandons the challenge. Return visits offer a glaring stuck on M notice, as I observed with one blogger I was following until mid-month.
Arriving at the platform of an obstacle on a challenge course only to turn around and climb the ladder to the ground also represents abandonment that others notice, followed by the inevitable self-doubt.
Today I'm writing my 57th blog post since March 1. Last month I participated in the SLICE OF LIFE STORY CHALLENGE sponsored by the TWO WRITING TEACHERS blog team.
Blogging two months straight has tested my endurance. I am tired of writing, but I'm also invigorated. Overall, I'm proud of many of my posts, but I do need a rest, as I do after a ziplining adventure. Then I'm ready to strap back into the harness and soar through nature again.
In Waldon Henry David Thoreau writes this about his experiment of living in the woods and then returning to civilization:
I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
As those who have participated in the A to Z Challenge know, the solitary act of writing necessitates significant alone time, both for blogging and commenting. Thus it seems only fitting to end with a Thoreau poem that speaks to that on this last day of April's challenge and the last day of National Poetry Month.
I Was Made Erect and Lone by Henry David Thoreau
|Ziplining in Idaho Google Image|