Not Knowing

Write, even when you think you have nothing to say.

Photo by Dan Russo on Unsplash

Sometimes, I have to write without knowing. I force myself to write, regardless of whether an idea surfaces or not. Tonight is one of those times.

In fact, most days in this young year of 2019 have been this way. I must force myself to write because each day I don’t further entombs the realm of ideas.

Yet, have I followed my own advice? I’m afraid not.

My vow at the end of 2018 was to write daily on Medium.

I think I’ve written twice.

I forget my own advice. To write, simply write — anything.

That’s how it is with me, anyway. The more I write, the more ideas I have, the more excited I get, the more I write, and so on. The mere act of writing triggers ideas.

It begs the question, why do I stop at all? What gets hard? And why does it get worse, day by day? Because that’s what happens. I begin to freeze over. But those are questions for another time.

Let’s take the present moment.

I’m listening to Mary Ann McPartland’s Piano Jazz Show on KCSM. Mercer Ellington, Duke’s son, is on the show. He has a laugh that burbles up through most of what he says. He finds opportunity to laugh at every turn, at every chance. His…