I love to sleep on a bed freshly made with clean sheets. It’s a sweet comfort, and I wish I slept on clean sheets every night. And honestly, I could if I were willing to make that effort.

Just thinking about stripping the bed, remaking it, washing and folding sheets stops me. But those times I suck it up and start, I’m reminded that it’s neither hard nor particularly time consuming. (We won’t discuss the challenge of folding fitted sheets; YouTube has videos for that.) And I’m rewarded that very night.

Truth be told, I have a similar aversion to cleaning house, purging clutter, and exercising.

Why am I such a slow starter at many things? Even writing.

Sometimes, I just open a blank document on my laptop and force myself to type. I set an intention to write. Something. Anything. Occasionally, decent words pour forth, though just as often, it’s blather. But damn it, I need to experience the muscle-memory of typing, to feel my fingertips on the keys, to feel whole again. When I love something I’ve written, nothing feels better. (Though, to be honest, I rarely “love” what I write; it’s more accurate to say, “when I’ve written something I needed to get out.”)

I have always worked well with deadlines. Pressure heightens the senses and is a reminder that good enough really can be good enough, because perfection doesn’t exist. Deadlines provide motivation. In my public relations career, crisis and timing were everything. Think on your feet. Walk don’t run. Gather information and synthesize it. Make decisions. The adrenaline rush brought purpose, energy, and clarity.

When I’m writing for a client, I can be disciplined. It’s work I’ve chosen to do, for people I want to work for and with. Just do it and trust the process. Don’t belabor my own editing or I’ll never finish.

The privilege of not *having* to work does not escape me. But did I spend so many years stressed out and never feeling I was quite enough that I lack urgency? Or maybe I’m just not passionate about clean sheets or mopped floors. I can get motivated about coffee with friends, albeit outdoors for a while longer.

Amy, Rebecca, Mia, and I launched this website on March 4, 2020, after talking about it for quite a while.

The date was happenstance, but it still amuses me that we began on March 4th. You know -- march forth, because we all share the tendency to wait, to process, and to launch under pressure, even when it’s self-imposed stress.

Now it has been a year, one unlike any other. The longer this quarantine goes on, the less discipline I seem to muster for anything other than occasional work projects. I’m hoping to be more consistent about writing for this blog site in the coming year. (More than the quarterly book reviews.) I’m *saying it out loud* to make it be so. Setting the intention and marching forth. Starting today.

What’s causing you angst this year? We'd like to hear from you, too.

If you have a piece you’d like to submit for consideration, please email info@wordsofwomen.life.