Some days, writing feels a lot like stretching to me. I reach and reach and make myself uncomfortable for a while, and then I return to my normal, stiff self. Nothing seems to have changed; there are no visible signs of progress. I still can’t reach my toes. I still can’t do anything close to the splits. Granted, doing the splits is not a goal of mine.

Part of the issue here is the way in which I am measuring success. By believing that I am only successful when I can reach a certain distance, I limit my sense of accomplishment. The goal should probably be to do some stretching everyday, regardless of the physical results. And the same with writing. I can’t measure my success according to what gets finished or what gets read, what gets published or what gets shared. These are largely out of my control. I can only keep writing and trust that putting in the work will ultimately lead to a positive outcome. It also helps to realize that the outcome might not be the one I originally envisioned.

And just to add a final layer of truth on this. I don’t stretch nearly enough. I’m pretty sure I should start a regular yoga practice. My regular writing practice could use a lot of work too.

I’m stiff and inflexible in more than one area of my life. How about you?