Earlier I wrote about testing out my creative writing tool chain and the sub domain I set up to keep my docs-as-code skills fresh, and get used to having my name on my work again.
I’ve been gradually working at it, learning Jekyll, and finding a sense of calm when I end a writing session with a commit. There’s a sense of accomplishment when I end each writing session with a commit.
Before, when I wrote in Google Docs, or Microsoft Word, or Libre Office, the session never felt finished. It never felt done. The pages stared at me, beckoning for more. As a result, none of my writing ever felt finished. Never felt good.
Iterations, and a sense of closure
Since creating and refining my creative writing tool chain, I’ve found that I’m OK if the writing isn’t finished. Each commit is an iteration, each branch a new idea, and when the branch is merged, it is ready to be set aside for awhile. I can move on to the next part of my manuscript, the next Tale of Riley , and feel good about the work I committed to the repository.
There’s something comforting in being able to go back through the commit history, see what changes I made, and sometimes find a new thread to tug and see where it goes.
Instagram as Morning Pages
I’ve found myself really enjoying looking back through my Instagram account , and turning old posts into meditations on dog training, or a short essay on a particular aspect I remember about my dog on that particular day. Like when I had to take him to the home of a veterinarian for his round of shots, and forgot my house keys. I learned about puppy brain that day.
As I go through old Instagram posts, I’m reminded of joy as well as struggle. He was not an easy puppy, and the pandemic did not help. I learned many things, though, and grew in ways I didn’t know how, or know that I could.
Looking back at my Instagram posts, it also occurs to me that my Morning Pages routine became an Instagram routine.
Through good times and bad, I continue to write.