As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to think about how long it takes to do something. Is it worth it? It applies to taking my shoes off at the beach and let the water lap against my feet. It also applies to my writing.
When I’m at the beach, it’s easy to talk myself out of taking off my shoes. It’s not that warm. I’ll get sand in my socks and shoes. It’s better to walk with arch support at my age. I can talk myself out of writing with a whole range of excuses.
For a couple of years, my hips were bad so that getting up and down off the sand was difficult. And I couldn’t balance on one foot. So it was easier to keep my shoes on. And I did. Basically, I got out of the habit of taking my shoes off at the beach even though I wanted to walk on the bare sand. I convinced myself it wasn’t worth the effort.
I can come up with reasons, but not doing something is overall dumb. I should take my shoes off at the beach. I should bathe my feet in the sun, in the sand and walk into the water periodically just because I can. It’s good to experience life, even when it’s uncomfortable at times.
The same applies to writing. I should write because I can.