It seems almost impossible to think that 20 minutes a day is tough to find for anything, most especially writing. After all, most of us who love writing want nothing more than to write daily, to have a routine and to feel the satisfaction that comes with discipline. And yet, I must admit, that my commitment to writing 20 minutes a day on this blog wavered only after a few days. But why?

Mainly, I must admit I felt slightly exposed publishing my work on a blog. I felt nervous that others could read what I had dashed out in just 20 minutes. I did what I often do when it comes to writing – wish that I were writing – but instead I spent my extra time cooking or cleaning or staring at the television set. I ‘m not talking the legitimate time spent working or doing household chores or being with family or friends. I’m talking about those precious extra minutes spent on activities that clog up my day and keep me from doing the things I’d feel good about accomplishing. Just for the record, I have been writing, but not on here. Still, this is a commitment I want to make because I absolutely know that having a daily discipline like this is one of the very best ways to improve writing. Not to mention that I will have a chronicle of my efforts right in front of me.

Part of my problem centers on feeling vulnerable. I write and then when I post, I feel slightly anxious. What if my writing is awful? What if people reading it are making judgments about my talent or even the level of my intelligence? Yes, it sounds fairly paranoid, but the truth is I believe most people feel this way when others are reading what they’ve written. Even famous writers say this fear of judgment plagues them. So why would I be any different? After all, this is laying myself bare on the page – letting people in to read about my personal perspective on life, even if I decide I’ll only write fiction. And, of course, I’m writing both fiction and memoir here. Such is the nature of art – laying oneself bare – so that others can feel a connection that isn’t layered with subterfuge and fear.

Alas, here I am, again, devoting myself to this discipline. And recognizing that with that commitment, I feel discomfort. This represents getting out of my comfort zone, trying something new, exposing my thoughts and feelings on the page to an audience who may be judgmental. And yet, if I don’t take that risk, then I miss the opportunity to explore who I am. I read the other day in The 90-Day Novel by Alan Watt that writing is making an active choice to evolve. (I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist). And evolution means taking changes, pushing to the next level, opening oneself up to new experiences and pushing the fear back just long enough to escape from that T-Rex that’s looking for its next meal.

So be it. I’m off again on the adventure. But I will be the last to judge another who claims they just “can’t find that 20 minutes a day to write.” After all, I started with good intentions and quickly fell off the bandwagon myself. But now, I’m hoisting myself back up and on. Here we go. This is my first 20 minutes of writing for this new venture and it’s flawed, but what the heck. As Ray Bradbury says, “Throw up on the page. You can clean it up later.”

Amen.