I have thought about writing on and off for the last three years or so. Aside from a few sparks of activity, I am yet to build up any kind of rhythm. However, this well may change, as I look to address the thoughts whirring around my head. When operating machinery, one should always keep an ear out for unusual tremors or sounds. The rattles that I am experiencing promise to cause interruptions; the bothersome expensive type, that demand time and reflection (one way or another). The task of sorting through the knotted tangle of ideas is daunting. I’m reminded of the tedium involved in untangling old fairy lights. You might start at one section but discover that it cannot be dealt with until another has been loosened. After a while, it might appear as though progress has been made. But though one area has been liberated, it becomes apparent that another is now twisted twice as much as it was before. If I could guarantee all the lights would go on at the end, the effort just might be worth it.

The thought of sharing these premature thoughts through a craft I have not mastered craft is also unappealing to me. I have a grouchy critic leaning over my shoulder who constantly deletes everything that I type at least once over, which makes for slow progress. While he spends an awful lot of his time telling me that my work isn’t good enough yet, he doesn’t seem to tell me by how far I missed the mark, or to be able to give me any pointers on how to improve.

So it’s true, I measure my work using a standard that is both lofty and without definition. The foggy heights of the pedestal on which I have exulted my ideal of excellence, combined with my desire to be praised for wit and cleverness has waylaid my journey to erudition for too long.

But not for much longer. I have been telling myself that a good task done poorly is better than not at all, especially when paired with an attitude which welcomes critique and is eager to improve. When I do take the time to stop and think it over, I remember that merit and intelligence were never meant to be pursued as ends in themselves, but to be picked up accidentally along the way to something better.

Oh, and I very occasionally think of something that is truly magnificent, and while someone else has always thought of it before, really good thoughts are worth revisiting, sharing and celebrating.