When I'm tired, I can excuse myself from almost anything. I can leave the dishes until tomorrow, push the email to a dear friend back another day (or five), pull on the same outfit from the day before. I sometimes even fall into bed, remember I didn't brush my teeth, and simply roll over, hoping my teeth will keep until morning. And too often, I turn off my computer with a million things to say at the tips of my fingers, but the effort of clicking out those tiny words into sentences seems too much and not important enough. I'm not only talking about this blog, which has become ridiculously important to me and a lovely part of my life here in Korea. I'm talking about all the other writing that no one sees, that isn't being written with the excitement of push-a-button-and-you're-published waiting for me at the end. And that's really the writing that matters. And sadly, the opportunities I have had to practice the craft of writing have been so numerous. I've not taken them because I was tired.
I'm glad that when I finished brushing my teeth, I turned my computer back on. I am so very tired and my bed is one footstep away. But this is where I decide who I am, what I am made of. Perhaps this is what I have been missing, the diligence I have been longing to practice and yet failing to make a reality: this push beyond the weariness.
Just a small insight, a little bit of self-revelation written down when I could have been lying down.