every day is day one. every day is a beginning. and this always feels like a beginning of sorts, whether it's in my writing, in my speaking, in my lifting, in my everything. especially with her. i treat her like it's the first day of everything. i don't want to get complacent. i don't want to get comfortable getting by on getting comfortable. there's a skill to this. and it involves simply letting the fingers do the work. they already know what to type before i even speak it, or voice it in my own head. that's the crazy part. scientists have mapped the electrical signals coming from the motor cortex in our brains and it seems that even before the participants registered that they made a decision to push the button, the scientists knew milliseconds before the participants. they could see in real time the motor cortex light up as the neurons activated the necessary pathways to move the hand to push the button.
what does this mean? well writers love to talk about writer's block. that seemingly all too common occurence of a mind brimming full of ideas and concepts only to forget them all as soon as a paper and pen are available. or in this case, a computer to type all this out. isn't that crazy? i've experienced this.
so this one hundred day challenge should be fun and well, a challenge. and this is precisely the habit i need to develop if i am ever going to be a seriously talented writer and poet. the hours need to be put in. 100 days is 100 hours. do this ten times and we'll have 1000 hours of concentrated, focused writing. surely that alone is enough to produce decent material, not including the hours i've spent amassing a double digit collection of small notebooks littered with poems, short stories, ramblings, and random thoughts on even randomer (or is it more random?) subjects.
truth is nobody cares. this is only for me. this is my way out of this. and my way out i mean a way to give back to the world and community around me. some might love my work and others might hate it. doesn't matter. what matters is that i continue putting in work to make the best writing i possibly can. that's it. that's all i can ever truly ask of myself. 100 days of 100 effort. like my lifting, i should be exhausted and tired, and looking forward to the rest days in between. but there won't be any rest days. only rest hours. in that rest i'll continue, little by little, piece by piece and word by word changing, improving, and modifying my work. that's called revising. editing. rewriting.
i'll be rewriting to rewire my brain. if neuronal pathways can be carved out again and again through learning, then surely i can rewrite myself through my writing. and to think, this is only day one. day 100, i look forward to carving you outta thin air, through the silent medium of my fingers typing away at this keyboard so i can gaze at the immensity of my creativity. or not lol. either way this challenge will be fun. let's begin. day two tomorrow. tonight i'll sleep tucked between my girl's cheeks. she's been lifting consistently since we started dating. and she can only get better in the same way i can.
100days is one hundred nights. maybe my dreams be filled with the lucidity and clarity, and the ability to remember the personal significance of my personal challenges in a way i can overcome my ego, and help become part of the solution, the positive side of being, and lower my spiritual entropy on the road to becoming and being love. that's all that matters anyways. writing is just tool. and it's been my most reliable source of intuitive knowing. here's to opening up more channels in my reality.