Honestly, writing my book feels a lot like March. It’s messy, uncertain, full of stops and starts. Some days, I feel like I’m racing forward, words spilling out effortlessly. Other days, it’s like wading through mud, every sentence slow and heavy. The work is adding up, shaping itself into something real, but some days it feels like I’m not making any progress at all. So I’m trying to take my own advice—move forward, even when it’s not perfect, even when I don’t feel ready. Because at some point, just like March, it’ll all break into bloom.
March was The month of essential chaos that brought me to an order I didn’t expect. This is my End of March reflection, if you feel like comparing experiences 🍷🫶🏼
Honestly, writing my book feels a lot like March. It’s messy, uncertain, full of stops and starts. Some days, I feel like I’m racing forward, words spilling out effortlessly. Other days, it’s like wading through mud, every sentence slow and heavy. The work is adding up, shaping itself into something real, but some days it feels like I’m not making any progress at all. So I’m trying to take my own advice—move forward, even when it’s not perfect, even when I don’t feel ready. Because at some point, just like March, it’ll all break into bloom.
March was The month of essential chaos that brought me to an order I didn’t expect. This is my End of March reflection, if you feel like comparing experiences 🍷🫶🏼
https://substack.com/@matriarchsandmargs/note/c-104984413?r=4b7w5n&utm_medium=ios&utm_source=notes-share-action