flower

I was going to write an awesome guest post.

It was going to be spectacular.

Then I sat down to write.

It turned out to be a post about writing posts. I couldn’t believe it. And it was bad.

I don’t have trouble writing posts for my blog. They’re pretty easy. In fact, I write them in my head all the time like some crazed commentator.

Then I tried to write for someone else’s blog. This caused much panic, self-doubt, writer’s block, and a small amount of sweating, which shall collectively and henceforth be known as SEBS (Someone Else’s Blog Syndrome). SEBS can range from mild to severe.

Cure?

Just type.

If you’ve been offered a guest post, go for it. If you follow someone who has a guest series, ask about it. You might even write something great. But, hey, if it’s bad, that’s okay, too. Move on.

If it really sucks, well…you’ll make a lot of people happy. Because they’ll think, “Wow, that stinks. I could write a post so much better than that.” And they will. And they’ll submit it and guest post. See? You’ve helped a fellow blogger or two. Doesn’t that make you happy?

My Sunday thoughts in 200 words or less.

Have you written any guest posts? Do you develop SEBS? Is it just me or is writing a guest post more difficult than writing your own?

* Look at the photo again. Sure, the pink flowers seem pretty…until you stick your face close to them and realize there’s a spider sunbathing inches from your nose. That’s my photographic metaphor for writing a guest post.

The first day of summer is here. We like to think about sunshine and light and warmth when, in fact, this is the beginning of the dark half of the year. Today is the longest day and each day that follows will become incrementally shorter. Darkness is slowly edging its way into our lives.

We can wonder, while sitting on a sandy beach or swimming in a pool, how June could herald a decline of sunlight. Or we can savor and appreciate what we have.

This flower, purple, delicate, and perfect, showed up in the midst of the mess of old pine needles and weeds in our backyard. I have no idea where it came from. We didn’t plant it so the seed flew to us on a breeze or was carried by an animal. (I like to think it sprouted magically from the ground or the fairies brought it but believe what you must.)

Regardless of how it arrived, it stayed and blossomed just like that. One day there was nothing, then there was this. I’ll leave you to admire the beauty of the petals as well as the thought that it appeared somehow, some way, for some reason.