You might think it’s not that hard to write a monthly essay. After all, it’s only once a month. So just get it done. Well, this month I didn’t. Here it is the first day of the month, my essay should have been on my website early this morning, and I have nothing.
My file of essay topics is thick. Through the years, I’ve jotted down ideas when something strikes me as unusual or thought provoking or interesting, but every one of those subjects requires focused thought. I rarely write an essay the day before it’s due, certainly not the very day it’s due, even if it is my own deadline. Sentences should hold together, and that requires lots of tinkering and revision.
I actually started an essay yesterday and then deleted the document. It was on how invisible I felt at a recent ‘strategic planning’ board meeting. After someone reaches a certain age, it’s as if their ideas are old school, looking backwards, out-of-step. Doesn’t experience count for anything? When I was forty, did I treat older people with condescension? I hate to think the answer could be yes. But I’m not ready to think about that yet and form an essay. I’m still a bit hurt.
Now… that could be an essay idea—because we control if we are hurt or exasperated or amused. No matter what someone says or does, we choose how we react to it. Wasn’t it Eleanor Roosevelt who said, “Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent,” or something like that? I’ve nursed this hurt feeling, a little “poor me” a couple days, and I’m through with it.
Obviously, I should start an essay the last week of the month, but I’ve learned with age not to promise something I can’t deliver. Or promise to attend a function because something could happen and I couldn’t make it. My go-to phrase now is “I plan to…” That gives me wiggle room.
This first of the month, I procrastinated too long to write a coherent essay you can relate to or an amusing anecdote to entertain you.
I plan to do better.
