MM mm mm mm...

I periodically agnonize about why I'm not more motivated to blog, write, journal, you name it. Because of what feels like an innate lack of desire, I wonder if I'm somehow less of a writer. I am simply not inclined to write every single day. If anything, I've noticed when things are either going really well, or really poorly, I have a tendency to write less, when I would have thought the natural reaction would be to write more.

Looking back through the past couple of years on my blog, I've noticed a few things: in 2006 I was writing fairly consistently up until it was revealed in late April that the pastor at my old church was sleeping around on his wife (not with members of the congregation, everyone was quick to point out, as though that actually made a difference); in 2007, I was blogging regularly up until my nephew committed suicide in mid May and I was notified by text message while on holiday.

I suppose I could also chalk up the blog drop off to summer, and being naturally busy out in the sun, or to how crazy it gets at work in the Fall which leaves me exhausted the months before and after September, and lastly, being enrolled in a full year creative writing class (for credit)--which proved very time consuming, but worthwhile to say the least.

Regardless, I can't seem to stop the self persecution about how often I do or don't write!

Lately I've been noticing that if I could just stop the self persecution altogether, I'd be a lot happier. But how does one do that exactly? Like walking by "my room" and seeing clothes all over the bed doesn't spur me to clean it up. Instead, I feel bad I'm not more motivated to clean! Sometimes I think of my brother Kyle, who cleans every weekend without fail, and I wonder why I'm not inclined to do the same?

Is it seriously just laziness? I often wonder if there isn't something wrong with me on a larger level.