Writing, like everything, requires an abundance of something that money can’t buy: time. But it also requires motivation, and for every excuse you make to be overruled by a stronger reason for. I believe that all writers, bloggers, casual story-tellers and poets, playwrights and every other type of person who likes to put pen to paper will, at some point, make excuses for not writing.
By excuses, I am not necessarily talking about the ones that see us favour going out for cocktails rather than writing that pressing article, or living the good life rather than writing about it (although I acknowledge, that these may be a factor!) but more the ones that instill guilt within us. Excuses don’t have to be the ones we know deep down aren’t true, but instead the ones that stifle us, to no real gain to our own well-being. The ones that make us think we can’t justify spending the time on that self-indulgent short story that you might never dare publish on your blog, or that diary entry that no one is ever going to see. The excuses that see us tell ourselves that we just don’t have the time.
But permission shouldn’t just be something you grant to other people. And time shouldn’t be something you grant only to something that will earn you money, further your career, clean the house. Because sometimes you have to be a little bit self-indulgent and give yourself the lexical therapy you deserve.