Although I am still showing up to write every day, lately I have been stuck on one particular chapter.
Sure, I still open my laptop, read what I have and manage to squeeze out a few more sentences. But when I close the laptop I still have no idea what happens next so I have no idea where to start the next day.
But the next days arrives and I open my work-in-progress and eke out a sentence or two. I close it, satisfied that I am living up to my goal of writing something each day, disappointed that it feels like such a lame, extremely low bar effort.
This went on for a couple of weeks.
Then today, I take myself to the bookstore, snag my favorite table by the window, get my venti iced soy chai, open my laptop, pop in my earplugs, and set Freedom for a ninety- minute session and start to write.
Reader, by the end of the session, I finished that chapter. And I am set up perfectly for the next chapter.
I am stuck in the messy, bogged down middle of my novel. I can’t imagine it ever being done. But I show up each day anyway. Each word, no matter how few or how lame they may seem, leads me forward.
And that is why I continue to show up, day after day, even when—no, especially when— I have no idea what happens next. Because showing up daily has taught me to trust that eventually I will write my way into exactly what happens next.