Starting again

Yet again, I am starting. Starting to write after a long time of not writing. It is strange to pick yourself up again and begin on something you really wanted, this time, to manage. Returning to it somehow seems to mean to me that I didn’t manage. But that is also okay. “Managing” to do something, perfectly, uninterruptedly, without pause is probably not in the cards for me – whether the task at hand be doing the dishes every night, or speaking kindly and without complaining, or drawing every day. But to stop returning to these things “because I will mess up yet again” is the real defeat. Inconstant, halting attempts net more in the end than perfect plans — a fact that I have a truly incredibly hard time convincing myself of. Well, maybe this time, I’ll manage.