What I Learned During My Four Week Blogging Break And What Happens Now I'm Back
I was going to jump back in to blogging today with a post addressing a question I’ve gotten from readers and students, but then I realized I want to talk about my blogging break.
I had no big revelations. I didn’t tackle any exciting projects. And I had no sudden insights.
I painted.
I worked in my sketchbooks.
I wrote in my journal, some days page after page, some just a few lines.
I ran a contest on Skillshare and gave away a year’s membership to one lucky student.
I signed, wrapped and mailed out many copies of my new seasonal joy journal (more on that another week).
I celebrated my birthday.
I finished the first draft of my book.
I planted seeds.
I unplugged as much as I could.
Not having my blog to write and edit and photograph and publish did give me more space in my days and my weeks. But do I feel different now that I’m back?
Not really.
But that’s ok. When I decided to take a blogging break I wrote:
I need to create more time and space for myself. For my art. For experimentation. For play. For quiet. For rest. I need to remind myself what it means to seek beauty and joy, how it feels to find comfort in creativity. I need to make my own way through the darkness.
I’ve come to understand that all of this is a work in progress. Something I will need to return to again and again.
One realization I had was that my week would flow better if I published my blog posts on Saturdays.
An easy enough fix.
I also realized that I can take time off from my blog.
I guess that sounds obvious, but it’s not something I considered much in the past. Being consistent is important (it’s something I bring up in my blogging class on Skillshare). But it’s also important to create a schedule that works for me, is sustainable and won’t burn me out.
My word for this year IS Ease after all.
I didn’t go into my blogging break with the intention of changing the way I blog, but I think I’m always considering little tweaks to how I do things. For a while I’ve been dreaming of creating a private space in which to share with a smaller audience (in a way that will help support my business financially), but I don’t want to commit to it unless I know I can sustain it.
I get a little uncomfortable talking about business here. About the fact that what I’m doing is part of a business, not just a hobby. I never want you to feel like I’m pressuring you or that what I do here is all about making money (it’s not!). I want to share freely with you. It’s important to me to share freely with you. Here and in my Joy Letters. I’m not going to stop blogging and I’m not going to stop sending out Joy Letters, but I need to make sure that everything I do as part of my business is sustainable and that I have enough time and energy for all I want to accomplish.
Another realization I had during my break is that March is a hard month for me.
Winter isn’t easy and late winter, especially, wears on me. I’m ready for spring, but spring is often slow to arrive (this year especially!). My garden is my refuge, my solace and my inspiration. I get impatient during February, March and April as we get snow after snow. As things are cold or dreary or messy. My indoor garden is wonderful, but after months of being indoors I’m ready to get outside.
Knowing this, though, means that I can make plans for next year. Give myself time and space. Make sure to plan a nurturing schedule for late winter and early spring, to schedule projects to help keep me going.
I’m constantly learning.
Learning in my art. Learning in my business. Learning in my life. The uncomfortable seasons (literal and metaphorical), the difficult chapters, they can teach me so much if I’m open and paying attention.
What about you?
What have you been struggling with lately or what’s something you’ve recently learned?