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Planning a lot this weekend:

  • Going to a New Dancers Milonga at the tango club

  • Doing my taxes

  • Helping S. with paperwork for something or other.

  • Visiting my trainer

  • Doing some extra job-work because I made the mistake of saying I could do something by Monday morning that I probably can't. I don't mind, though.

  • (Hopefully) doing at least one fun or new thing.  Tango doesn't count.

  • Maybe the fun or new thing will involve the guy I may be dating.  Maybe it won't.

I hope I can do some writing, too. I think I feel better when I do some writing.

Which reminds me:  I am reading Dr. Carol Dweck's book, Mindset. Although it sounds from the marketing verbage like just another book about positive thinking, it isn't.  It's something much better.

It made me realize (among many other things) that one reason I've had trouble producing writing is that I've always been afraid that my work would prove that I couldn't actually write. That I wasn't any good at the thing I'd wanted to do since I was six.  Every story I attempted put me to the test, risked showing the awful truth about what I was made of.

It never occurred to me that if I couldn't write well, I could get better, even though I knew I was much, much better than I'd been at sixteen (to pick an age at random.)  To me, either you could write or you couldn't.  Even though I knew I had improved over the years, I still assumed that either you had Talent or you didn't, and maybe I, at bottom, did not.

It will be interesting doing some writing with this more expansive frame of mind.