When I lived in San Diego, I used to take writing classes almost every quarter from the University of California, San Diego Extension program because it was:
- Had great teachers
- Offered a variety of classes
- Gave me a reason to permit myself to write
That is correct. Unless I had a paper to write or a work assignment, I never gave myself permission to write just because I enjoyed doing it.
I had forgotten about that until Teagan R. Geneviene of Teagan’s Books.,commented that
I let myself buy all sorts of paints and some canvases when I first moved, wanting to get back into that (after a decade long break), and I haven’t even done that. I’m “working on” allowing myself time for creativity and relaxation… working on it.
That was exactly how I felt about allowing myself time to write.
Fortunately, one of the last classes I took at UCSD Extension was a blog writing class–three years later, I’m still blogging.
It has become addictive and unless I have written something every day, the day feels unfinished, almost wasted.
On the plus side, I think that my writing has improved and it is easy to come up with new topics (even before the ready made topic of Coronavirus). I am old enough to have something to say and hopefully something worth sharing.
On the negative side, because writing is so easy for me, I know I do not push myself hard enough to improve. (I’m relying too much on the idea that practice makes, if not perfect, at least improvement.)
Do you enjoy doing something that you do not give yourself permission to do? Why are we like that? Do we feel that we do not deserve to do something just because we enjoy it?