I’m trying to figure out what to write in this journal. Publishing a little something every day sounds easy, and it is some ways, but it’s also hard. It’s hard to feel satisfied with what you write. It’s hard to maintain enthusiasm some days. I love writing, but I most love it when I don’t feel rushed, and don’t we all feel rushed all the time? It’s hard to find the moments where you can really spend time with an idea or a memory.

One of the things I most enjoyed sitting down to write was Wise-Guy in the Fog because it represented two slow days. A day spent in the fog at Point Reyes Lighthouse, and a day spent writing about it, pottering around, and wishing I was back there. I was taking a few days in between jobs—the first time I’ve ever done so—and I just spent that time enjoying moments that are difficult to find much of the time.

I thought that I’d find the thing that I want to write about and enjoy writing about it forever, but I no longer think that it works that way. The things that I enjoy writing about and that give me energy change all the time, and sometimes disappear entirely. Writing is both the most joyful and the most painful thing at times. Writing is actually simply a mirror though, and life itself can be both joyful and painful.