A Path Worth Pursuing
Hello, Friend!
Last week, I finally switched from writing my scenes by hand to typing them. I’d been debating it for a while, but in the end the choice made itself. The grueling ritual of spending hours retyping pages into the computer so Tim could edit them had started to dull the euphoria of finishing a chapter. I could have saved myself so much time and frustration if I’d switched sooner, but I clung to the idea of having my raw, unedited words preserved as a physical artifact in paper and pencil. And of course, there were the limiting beliefs: This is who I am. I’ve already told people this is how I write. It’s so much cooler to write by hand.
Then one day at the library, I ran out of lead for my mechanical pencil – so I pulled out the good ol’ Windows Lenovo…and here we are.
Typing has already transformed my chapters. Now I can revise word choice as I go, restructure sentences for better flow, and follow momentum instead of fighting against it. Looking back, I wonder how I let myself struggle for so long just for the sake of a memento- a fragile object that could be lost, destroyed, or tucked away forever. Maybe it would have been worth it if I truly loved writing by hand or was getting something meaningful out of it, which was true at first. But as the novelty faded, my hand cramped, and I found myself dreading writing sessions, something had to change.
The whole experience got us thinking about how easy it is to get caught up in imagined outcomes and prioritize what we think our future selves might want…even at a cost to our present selves. We’re not saying that setting goals and making plans aren’t important – they absolutely are. We are, after all, on a journey that has taken years of investment and intention. But sometimes we have to remind ourselves to consider the process and ask - are the possible results of the future worth the guaranteed sacrifices of the present?
Sometimes we get so focused on finishing our book quickly that we forget to appreciate where we are, or we push ourselves so hard that the joy of writing slips away. All that pressure does is create our own suffering. It doesn’t make the work easier or faster. If anything, it can slow us down. When we catch ourselves in that place, gratitude is what brings us back. Gratitude for the journey. Gratitude for the moment we’re in. Gratitude for the experiences unfolding right in front of us. Gratitude for having found a purpose with a path worth pursuing, not just a destination worth reaching.
xoxo,
Court
