The Blank Page
I’ve never been much for New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t think there is only one time of year to take stock, to start new habits, and to make plans for the future. I tend toward all-or-nothing thinking, so I worry that if I were to go all in on NYRs it would mean that missing the ‘deadline’ to make them, or quickly ‘failing’ in them would lead to me waiting a whole year to start something new.
That said, it is a good practice to take stock from time to time, to consider where we want to go in life and find a few steps that will help us move forward. While I didn’t make a ‘New Year’s Resolution’ for 2024, I did coincidentally around the same time make a few changes to help me make progress in my goals.
My second book will be published soon, and I want to quickly finish writing my third book, largely as a warmup to help me then get really stuck into my fourth book—the big project I’ve been working toward for years, and which I had to postpone for a long time due to a major concussion which had a lasting impact on my ability to work.
Toward this end, I have taken on an intern who is working with me on data analysis of a previous ATCK survey, and helping me prepare a new survey to launch later in the year. I have also started hosting two writing groups for ATCKs, where we gather on zoom, share our writing goals, and get work done together. Both my lovely intern and my writing groups have already been incredibly helpful, and a wonderful addition to my weeks.
The Terror of the Blank Page
On top of this, I’ve decided it’s time to start up my blog and newsletter again. I’m going to start slowly with the blog, by digging up some old gems to polish up and re-share. Mostly I want to get back in the habit of putting my thoughts down. The newsletter feels like a bigger hill to climb. It’s taken me a while to work out why. I’ve finally realised it’s the terror of the blank page.
Opening a document, or a notebook.
And staring
at
a
blank
page.
An endless sea of white, waiting to be filled. Nowhere to start from, nothing to start with. It feels impossible—a towering cliff, a bottomless ocean, a laundry hamper that is somehow always full.
And yet, as the saying goes, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. The endless sea I see in the blank pages is a mirage.
Single Steps
Like all tasks, the big picture things I want to do suddenly seem manageable when I break them down into small pieces. “I can do that”, I think to myself.
I can brush up some old posts I really like
I can write 500 words on a small sub-topic in my niche field that I’m really passionate about.
I can break a newsletter down into a few small items to include.
Like sharing some of my favourite things from around the internet, some upcoming events, or some services I recommend.
Most of us get stuck when we stare at the blank pages of our lives—the big picture of where we want to go, the Big Tasks we want to tackle. Sometimes they’re good to look at for inspiration, but in terms of actually getting moving? It can be pretty overwhelming. Bringing our eyes down to the way in front of us, and the very next footstep, hand-hold, or load of laundry, brings us back to ourselves—to tasks we feel capable and confident to tackle.
What about you?
What are your blank pages?
What tasks are you tackling at the moment?
