Writing – Eric L. Walker

The power of streaks

Streaks work for improvement because streaks build pressure to keep going.

What begins as commitment develops into a habit.

I assert that habits are easier to maintain than commitment.

In my case, I’ve started this blog and decided to journal for a professional cause publicly. In the process, I went from…

‘Should I write today?’ (commitment)
to
‘What will I write today?’ (habit)

That shift changed my entire posture.

It has also offered me a buoy from assigned client writing work, which can begin to feel like all work and no play. The right habit can feel like play.

Now I will continue writing. I will leverage this happy habit toward the continued growth of my writing craft. I will consider guest writing at other publications to help my writing business and look forward to reporting about that here.

One way to level up is to adopt a commitment and turn it into a habit. Document the process along the way. People like us call that meaningful work.

Personal voice in professional writing

I write daily on this blog: simple writing, and more like public journaling – a personal voice in professional writing. Even if no one reads this, I would still write.

Why?

Because when I know I have to write something tomorrow, it forces me to think, form opinions, and invent ideas. It’s a daily exercise in a thoughtful examination of my world. I might say something that helps someone else. One of my opinions might stand the test of time. If I share it publicly, I will show up with the intent to form those perspectives and invent ideas.

And if someone printed one of my posts to put on the refrigerator or someone shared what I wrote with their team, that would be best.

I seek to leave behind this trail of exploration, day after day, week after week, year after year, and I can’t help but get better at what I do. I’m the type of person that wants to get better at what I do.

It starts as a commitment that evolves into a habit. I also love it.

Simultaneously, if you are reading this, and as a result, I earn your trust because of it, that’s the sweet spot.

Ultimately, my goal is to be trusted in a way that I can create awareness and make positive change. Writing this “blog” is the minimum viable way I can begin to do that, and it’s a start.

Let’s not call this a blog. Instead, it’s a personal voice in professional writing. It’s about taking the time to talk to the people who want to be talked to and earning their permission.

I won’t achieve that by manipulating SEO or the latest social media strategy. No, I gain trust and approval by showing up in a way that you’d want someone to show up for you. Right now, you and I’re sitting down for coffee to chat.

In short, I write these small things every day. It’s a habit. Therefore, I have to say something tomorrow. As a result, I’ll form opinions and invent ideas. In time, leaving a trail of exploration makes me better. My goal is to create awareness and positive change by earning trust. It’s personal writing within the practice of being a professional.

My Nostalgic 1980s Summer

Summer would hit, which would not affect my parent’s life whatsoever. They continued to do what they did. Usually, they went to work. They didn’t supervise us. We had nothing except our bikes and baseball gloves. We had a small assortment of Army men, a Tonka truck, a Luke Skywalker action figure, and a magnifying glass.

We had enough money in nickels, dimes, and quarters to get the cheapest thing from the ice cream truck. We always took a “time-out” for the ice cream truck. A Snickers was .35 cents. We drank from the hose. On the hottest days, we’d screw on the sprinkler to jump through eight streams of cold water. Always barefoot. Every day was an adventure because we had our bikes and could push the furthest boundaries of our neighborhood.

We had about 8-10 hours a day to meet strangers. We met new people all the time. We’d stumble upon some older kids smoking cigarettes in the woods that cussed us away. We discovered that one kid in the adjacent neighborhood across “the busy street” had a slip-and-slide. We could always find a pickup baseball game in an extra lot, a cul de sac, or at the school playground. We made new friends and necessary connections on our own. We didn’t have “play dates.” We knocked on our friend’s front door and asked, “Can Jonny play?” It was Yes or No. Sometimes, a fistfight settled things.

When we came home, the milk was cold, so we gulped it down. Our parents knew nothing of what we’d been up to. It’s not that they didn’t care, but it wasn’t a concern. We’d just been “playing,” and that took on a life of its own.

Portulaca

This is the Portulaca flower, also called Purslane. It blooms brightly in the sun and retreats its bloom as the day fades. Most of my colleagues at the greenhouse are Spanish-speaking. Gloria explains that Portulaca means “amor de un rato,” meaning “love of a moment.” These are the “ah hahs” that greenhouse life offers me. So I contemplate how Portulaca’s beauty is fleeting and compare that to life’s collection of small moments. One moment. All the time. “Amor de un rato” reminds me to cherish transient experiences, whether in nature or life, because they add richness and depth to my existence. For this reason, I love Portulaca. It reminds me that the briefest moments can be the most beautiful.

The importance of daily practice

Pablo Casals was a renowned cellist who once emphasized the vital impact of daily practice on the instrument’s “feel.” He remarked that skipping even one day of practice made a noticeable difference, not just to him but also to his close friends and eventually to the whole world. This insight aligns with the experience of a physicist who, also a violinist, wrapped his violin in green felt, clamped it in a vise, and observed its molecular surface under an electron microscope. The experiment demonstrated the lasting effects of daily play on the instrument. This finding reinforces that musical instruments need regular attention to maintain their resonance. I love this idea because it extends to writers (me) who find daily pen-to-paper engagement breathes life into ideas. So, just as Casals felt the difference in his cello after a day of neglect, I, too, can tell if I go a day or two or three without practicing putting pen-to-paper. The example highlights the power of consistent practice in any (creative) endeavor.

Reflective writing collaboration

Being a personal writer in the professional world is not something many people do, but it’s essential. It means writing down your experiences to help you think about them and share them with others.

I want to work with people who are willing to try new things. It doesn’t matter if you work alone, do physical labor, have a job, are part of a nonprofit group, own a small business, or work with a team of realtors or a parent-teacher organization. If you want to connect what you know with what you experience in your life, I’m here to collaborate.

You have something unique to offer. By learning how to solve complicated problems, you can teach others too. In our complex world, we always have to think about how to improve our lives, relationships, and work. Reflecting on things is important for figuring out how to do that.

When we work together as reflective writers, we focus on your learning and try to understand what it means for you and the people you want to share it with. I aim to help you become willing and make writing a part of your daily routine. It’s like a tool that lets you learn from different perspectives and ideas and understand other cultures.

This is just as important as eating and breathing.

If you want to know more, let’s talk.

Personal writing

In my cedar trunk are cherished artifacts from my past: calendars, notebooks, letters, and photographs. I’ve carefully curated them, hoping they’ll be discovered by future adult children, or their children or their children, etc. seeking wisdom, like browsing a website or favorite social media feed. These treasures embody the essence of my life, transcending mere desk-bound tasks.

I write at varying frequencies, driven by the seasons and my preferred platform at the time. I find solace in journaling with a dollar store notebook and a thin-tipped Sharpie, clarifying my thoughts. I sometimes send letters on my Smith-Corona typewriter.

I photograph my children to capture fleeting moments, storing the memories securely in the cloud, and use these pictures as writing prompts.

Ultimately, how I express myself matters little; writing, collecting, or documenting. What’s essential is faithfully recording life’s significant moments. Each entry, like a precious bookmark, holds immeasurable value to me.

Reflection

I gain insights and intuition based on my experience and taking time to reflect. Every day — I have the opportunity to use yesterday as the wise counsel I need to make the most of tomorrow. I have a journal and digital white space to wayfinding what I remember by recording the reflection of what these everyday stories teach me.

Thoughts on creative work

Creative work encompasses endeavors that have the potential to both fail and improve. It begins with the desire to bring about change.

Many individuals yearn for someone else to dictate their path, leading them to feel trapped and discontented. The fear of potential failure haunts them, reminiscent of the embarrassment felt in childhood when they misunderstood something and faced ridicule from peers and teachers. Such experiences can have long-lasting effects.

However, true creativity cannot thrive within the confines of waiting for instructions. It demands a fearless dance with the possibility of failure. This courage is essential to the creative process. If you can’t acknowledge that your endeavor could fall flat, it’s probably not “creative work.”

I consider creative work to carry with it these characteristics consistently:

Creative work involves the transformative power of change.
Relying on external guidance can stifle true creativity (yet true creative collaboration can be powerful).
Fear of failure stems from past negative experiences, impacting self-confidence.
Waiting for instructions hampers the creative spirit.
Embracing the dance with fear is crucial for creative work.

Creative work requires taking risks and accepting that not everything will succeed. By embracing the dance with fear, we unleash our true creative potential.

Specificity rules

Using “To Whom It May Concern” in a letter differs from addressing someone specific. I will write to a person, not a department head, and create content as if addressing a human with a name, not a general demographic.

When I write content, I will think of them by name and consider them individuals, which helps me understand their needs, preferences, and interests. By tailoring content to one specific person, I will create personalized and engaging messages that lead to more effective communication.

After all, excellent communication is about arriving at the intended outcome, nothing else.

Writing to unlock discovery

In life, it’s not just about what you know but also about what you don’t know you don’t know. The hidden possibilities, the undiscovered talents, the unexplored paths. It’s about the music in the silence and the epiphanies that come from instinct.

Sometimes, the only way to truly see is by being blind, allowing dreams to rise from the depths of our subconscious. And sometimes, by giving up, we gain a new perspective.

Writing can also be a powerful tool for discovery. As you put pen to paper, you may find yourself renewing your covenant with the mysterious and enigmatic. Embrace the furtive pen as it saunters across the empty page, allowing the dark, brimming mist to give way to daylight and reveal its secrets.

So, don’t just focus on what you know. Embrace the mystery and the unknown, and let your instincts guide you toward discoveries. Who knows what you might find?

A thread we must follow

Life can be uncertain, full of ups and downs, tragedies, and unforeseen events that can quickly derail us from our path. But amidst all the changes and chaos, there’s a thread that we must follow. It may not always be clear to others, but we must explain and hold onto it tightly. This thread gives us direction and helps us stay grounded, even when the world seems to be falling apart. Time may pass, and we may face many challenges, but we must never let go of our thread. It keeps us moving forward, even when everything else holds us back.