Reader

I don't call them quick posts because they are less formal. Instead, they are less formal because I want them to be. Because I write them as short, quick posts. They need not be correct. They need not be corrected.

Manu wrote recently about how he dislikes editing old blog content.

[A] personal blog can and should be a representation of who you are at different points in time. We change, we grow and our thoughts and ideas grow and change with us. And it's important to have testament of that.

I, too, am firmly in Manu's camp. If I were to improve my old posts, I would never write anything new. The ideas are shitty, and the way I wrote them is shittier. Nevertheless, I still stand by all of those posts. Sure, I may not endorse any of those views today. But they are the views of my younger self.

The world around me has changed over the years. So has the world within me. It is only natural then that how I look at and understand the world has evolved too.

I recently observed my writing may have gained correctness at the cost of courage. Colin had an interesting thought responding to the post.

I'm not sure about it being a lack of courage, rather an increased reticence stemming from a low-level, underlying fear that now pervades the web.

Is it the fear of being wrong that has made me change what and how I write? Sure, that too. Whatever the reason, I am not the same self I was a few years ago. Why, then, should I ever correct what he thought and wrote? It helps neither the reader nor me.

Is it because I have spent long hours at work and overworked myself empty? Is it because I have wasted a lot of time after work? Or is it both?

I don't feel good when I overwork — it leaves me with no energy to do anything else. It also leads to a need to unwind, forget all the routine stuff and spend time doing nothing meaningful. Watching YouTube. Scrolling through timelines. Sleeping long hours. Or catching up on shows that I wouldn't have watched otherwise.

After the hard, long work, don't I deserve a bit of relaxation? Sure. But at what cost?

I hate the process of getting back to a good routine. I need to work twice as hard on bringing things back to normal. Get the focus back on health – physical and mental. Walk. Exercise. Meditate. Read. Write. Listen to music. Sleep sane hours. Live with family. Live.

My life is balanced on four legs: family, work, hobbies, and health. I am stable if I give them equal attention. If any of these engage me more, my life wobbles for balance. I look for temporary support. Mindless fun lends me momentary respite. But before I know it, I am back to the struggle.

I know I must get my life settled onto the four legs again. Work at work hours. Spend time with family. Lend time to me, to my hobbies. Focus on health.

Do all of these. Just enough to feel in control but not so much to feel overwhelmed. The struggle begins today.

Focus on the first thing you write, say, or sing. Spend time making the absolute best decision about those first few things you are going to express. Never forget their importance to everything that will come after.

I was (and still am) bad at this aspect for years. I circle what I want to say before I say what I want to say. Over years of writing, I got better at this. I come to the point quicker now.

I feel frustrated when I see some of the most personal stuff with an interesting premise get lost in need of setting context. Many writings need context setting. Research papers need context. Thesis. How-to Manuals. And on and on.

But a personal blog does not. Sure, some stories need a build-up; take the reader along the ride. But most don't.

On the other hand, does there even need for an “effective way” of writing anything personal? It's personal, after all. Individual. There's no correct way of doing it. It's a matter of style.

But what counts is not to lose the reader before I arrive at the point. So begin strong.