I wish I was better at blogging. By all appearance, I should be good at it.
I like writing. I am ok at writing (depending on which of my college professors you ask). I have hobbies and stories that others have blogged about. I follow lots of blogs, so I know what makes a good blog. I have the time to write. I’m always on the internet, so why not?
Yet… like knitting and sewing, I just don’t seem to be good at it. And, I know, practice makes prefect. So I tell myself everytime I try to sew and fail miserably. The more I do it, the better I will be. So I tell myself after the 200th job application. Failure only makes you want to work harder. So I tell myself after I received two job rejection letters within 2 hours of each other. It’s only temporary. So I tell myself when I have to turn down going out with my friends because I just can’t afford it. And so on…
I can’t help but wonder when failing is the end all-be all. We can’t all succeed in everything we set out to do, no matter if our parents tell us differently. What happens if the thing you set your heart on is just not possible? Oh look, now I’m being a Debbie Downer.
The world is full of stories of people who overcome all odds to do the impossible. Look at any athlete who attended the olympics. They all have stories of heroism. But for every athlete who was chosen to attend, there are 20 who were not chosen. Those people’s stories are rarely told, because somehow it is just so unAmerican. So, when we do fail at something, we cannot fathom it. How can we go on?
By telling ourselves that failure is only one stop on the way to our goal.
Yes, keep the hope alive. Always.
Anyway, so this is my long winded explanation to say, I am not a good blogger.