52 weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since I started this blog.
Or put another way: that’s how long it’s been since I realised the only thing stopping me from writing a weekly musing was me.
It wasn’t a lack of time, or a lack of money or a lack of ideas, which is what I had myself believe. No, instead these were justifications for my procrastination.
I’ve since shipped 49 posts (including this one). One shy of 50 and three shy of one per week. Now I know what you’re thinking: damn, he’s good at maths too?!
Alas, I’m not here to talk algebra.
Have there been weeks where I don’t want to do it? Of course.
Am I always happy with the end product? No way.
Do I ever wonder if I have anything meaningful to say? Almost every week.
But I don’t write because I feel like I have something to say, I have something to say because I sit down to write.
I’d bet you would too if you made it a practice.
PS. If you’re interested, the most viewed posts of the last 12 months have been:
This throwback to a piece I wrote in 2006
This list of compelling questions that might just change your life
This call to action to start having cold showers