I don’t want to write today.

I don’t want to sit down and blog, to chat about my perspective on life, to write a whimsical or thoughtful piece.

I just don’t.

But I’m going to write. I write because I dream of something bigger. I write because of the practice. I write because of the soothing feel of the keyboard beneath my fingers. I write because when I know I told myself I must write, I’ll look at life differently.

For me, writing a public blog like this allows me not to live as a disassociated documentarian as you’re often warned about, but an active participant in the world around me. When I know that I want to write, and not just have a straightforward diary but to find insight in daily living, I pay more attention. I am able to pull myself off of autopilot – wake up, go to work, eat dinner, Reddit, and sleep – and find reasons for excitement.

I’m quite lucky now. I decided to write daily just before my job changed over. Now, instead of pounding away on a computer all day, I’m dancing around a flagship cafe. I’m playing barista tetris with boxes of supplies, calling across the room to stop aerating milk. And I’m meeting people. So many people. I get to see our new neighbors stroll in, coming to see what we’re about. I get to have 20 minute conversations with the pastor whose son also just opened a coffee shop, and the representative from our equipment manufacturer. I get to talk with the mayor, the owner of the acupuncture clinic, the middle schooler who does magic tricks, and the woman who coordinates the local mom’s group of Facebook. There’s stories, and their stories help me come to life.

I didn’t want to write today.

So I sat down and my computer and let my fingers rove. And as they did, I began to remember the beauty of today. Not a simple note to throw in a jar every day of the year, but a process. A development. Opening my mind to the moments of the recent past rather than the dread of the future or the stress of the present. And I see despite my personal tension, there is a delight in the every day.

I didn’t want to write today. But I wanted to see. I wanted to feel. And I wanted to come alive.

So I wrote.