After a month of silence, I wanted to say hello and share a quick update.
I'm writing this from a little restaurant near the Aegean sea. It’s run by an older couple who make me feel like their grandson every time they bring me something to the table, every time they patiently, with a smile, struggle with me to overcome the language barrier, and every time they come to take the empty plate, being happy that I'm fed.
I'm sitting in a garden under a roof of grapevines, drinking Çay (Turkish black tea), having just finished a lamb dish that felt and tasted like a meal cooked with love, the love of cooking, and the love of making people happy, and their stomachs full.
The garden has an almost unnatural calming effect on me.
As much as I’m enjoying the quiet peace here, I feel a tingle of happiness every time I see people coming here. I want to see this place and the hospitable grandpa & grandma doing well.
Being here, I can see, feel, and taste the love that embodies the food, the vegetable garden, the lemon trees all around, the hospitality of the old couple, and the smiles of everybody who comes in.
That brings me to what I wanted to share today.
You see, for the last month, whenever I sat down to write a new post, I didn’t feel excited about exploring ideas and sharing perspectives, nor about improving my writing.
Instead, I felt pressure.
Pressure from the promise of a newsletter that I wasn’t fulfilling by not sharing anything in a week, or two, or three…
I felt the pressure pushing me from one draft to another, never being happy with the outcome, never finishing any of them, and feeling like none of them were good enough.
My motive was no longer love – the love of writing, of sharing ideas, and most importantly, the love and enjoyment of the process. Instead, my motive was fear – fear of failing the promise of the newsletter, fear of not meeting expectations, and fear of failing at another side project.
I kept pushing myself to write, but without the right motive and without the enjoyment, it started to become more and more of a chore. And I don't need more chores on my plate.
And so I stopped.
Instead of writing posts, I kept writing for fun and for myself, and instead of sharing ideas, I just gathered them for future inspiration.
I focused my creative energy on de-whervelming my life, on my work, and on figuring out the life on the road.
And over time, the idea of writing another post and sharing it again became something I could enjoy on its own, without any other goal, than to write and hit publish.
Sometimes, when you lose the enjoyment of things, try getting some distance and coming back only when you start missing them again.
Thanks for reading, have a great weekend, and I talk to you when I talk to you :)