Allow things to emerge with consistency, time, and space.

As I write each day, I do not have a destination in mind. I do not forecast a career as a writer or some large following. I write to write, an end in and of itself with its own benefits.

Writing each morning is an anchor, a playground for the mind. It allows my mind to run in a field, to energize itself, to expel thoughts, to express. It is a release and an expression. It is also a point of connection for myself and others to tap into when these thoughts are solidified.

I do not know where this writing will go, if it will go anywhere, if it is moving in any particular direction. I trust only that writing each day is of benefit to me and will result in a positive outcome, perhaps a repository of thoughts, a legacy of my mind for my future self to visit.

As I approach almost two months of daily writing, my mind has begun to challenge the habit. Is this the best use of my morning? Is this the best use of my time? What is it all for? What goal is this serving? So, now you are a writer, but you are unknown—what benefit does this blogging serve you? Who will read these posts? Who will care?

These are dark voices getting in the way. They have a protective, survivalist function—time is precious, do not waste it, only do important things. Thank you for this warning. But ultimately, these voices are not in service of this art, this practice. They are part of the challenge of a daily practice of any kind, whether musical practice, meditation, or whatever form of consistent effort. Pain and frustration will yield a particular fruit—a bitter fruit that makes us want to abandon the path.

Despite the voices demanding a purpose, a reason, some sort of justification for the activity, I choose to continue each day. I am allowing whatever wants to emerge to come forth. I do not know when it will emerge nor what it will be. But I am trusting in emergence, trusting that these daily writings will have their own yield.