We are what we repeatedly do.

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act, but a habit.

Aristotle

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to write. For the same amount of time, I have been afraid do anything about it. Afraid of not being good enough. Afraid that I was not enough. Life has happened whilst I have been too too busy not making other plans. Still, my life has turned into the most fruitful of tress despite the fungus of fear taking control at the very core of the trunk.

I hope now is the time for change.

In November I started running. Having been in good shape in my teenage years, years of dormant muscle eventually wasted away and I began to begin from scratch. The goal was simple; to run 2 or 3 times a week. That was it. No unrealistic goal. No undue pressure to gain instant success. Just time to run. Time to enjoy running. Nine months later, I still enjoy it. Nine months on, I am in better shape and healthier – in body and mind – than I was. The practice or the repeated action has made this a habit. I am no Olympian, but I am a runner. Albeit, bit of a slow one! For me, it is enough. And it’s got me thinking, what else might be possible? So, I’m going to try the same with writing. I am going to try and write something, here, every week. Not to gain readers. Not to get published. But just writing for writing sake.