Maybe I’m just a binge writer, like…Cheryl Strayed? I think I heard Cheryl Strayed say she was a binge writer.

I believe there’s value in working with yourself and your natural tendencies rather than against them, but I also believe there’s value in developing discipline. Which is why I tried to make this a daily blog, and then also why I gave up the idea of it being a daily blog in favour of it at least remaining a blog, and now why I still haven’t decided whether, deep down, I think it should be a daily blog.

It’s difficult to live with all these competing thoughts.

Do I want to be rich and use that resource to be an agent of positive change? Or do I believe that holding onto wealth enough to be considered rich is deeply selfish and immoral? That it will remove me from all sources of virtue?

Do I want to bring multiple children into this world and work hard to help them become beautiful, powerful humans who will achieve and contribute to the world so much more than my flawed, broken self will ever be capable of? Or is contributing to the global overpopulation crisis deeply irresponsible regardless of any such ‘noble’ intention?

Is my desire to get married a justified pursuit of spiritual union with another human being? Or am I just rationalising my societal programming?

When my son is born, is it only right that I contribute financially to our family by finding a job? Or is it enough to focus on creating an environment within which he can thrive based on the income we have?

All these points of conflict stifle my decision making and my clarity, and they all probably boil down to one theme. What I want to do, and what I think is the right thing to do.

Somewhere in me is the idea that the right thing to do is never the nice thing, or the fun thing, or the beautiful thing. I’ve consciously overridden that pesky notion time and again, but it’s still embedded there.

Truly, I don’t believe in a world of scarcity. But still I am scared of taking too much. I am scared of being one of the people who make the world seem scarcer. Scared of perpetuating the broken aspects of our world.

Am I trying to do the least damage, or the most good? Hmm.

So it’s been a month. I’ve noticed myself in many ways becoming quieter over the course of my pregnancy. Writing less, talking less, turning more inwards. I wonder if perhaps the monumental act of creation going on inside my currently undulating belly has given me less of an appetite for other creative endeavours. Or maybe I just can’t articulate my thoughts amongst the hormone haze and have instead opted out of even trying.

I’ve thought about this blog fairly regularly, much like I’ve thought about my journal and an array of unfinished projects. And I probably should have acted on those thoughts more often than I have. But also these days I am careful not to ‘effort’ things too much. I try not to swim upstream too often, the idea instead being to prioritise the things that are really worth that effort. And even moreso right now – when my decisions, my mindset, my general wellbeing all have a ripple effect into the being growing in my womb beyond my understanding – I am being more cautious to go easy.

I spent a lot of my young life efforting. Making things happen. Achieving what I wanted to achieve, whatever the cost. I was prepared to toil and suffer. And boy did I toil and suffer. Physically, mentally, emotionally…my entire life was just a series of battles, and I never had the wisdom to surrender. I always went to the bitter end. I got things done; I’m proud of some of the things I accomplished, and I had an interesting life. But I ruined myself over time. Until I had no choice but to give up. If I’d been more open, more relaxed, less dogged, less controlling, I still could have accomplished many things and had an interesting life, but I could have sustained it. Indeed, that’s what I’ve been trying since my ‘fall’. To create a fulfilling and sustainable life, not just a list of achievements. To be happy as well as successful. But mostly, to be happy.

So do I have a point? Maybe I should have written more, but it’s equally possible that I have needed not to write. Regardless, I simply choose to appreciate that, right now, writing feels like surrendering to the current. And I trust that, over time, I will find the balance of fighting for something and letting it go.