At other points in my life when I'd make a commitment to write every day there'd be something specific to write about. The first time I did this I was establishing a writing practice for the very first time - staring down the release of my biggest book and not writing regularly made me feel like a fraud. My second foray into scheduled writing was a way of keeping myself sane while waiting to donate a kidney. Having a place to get (most of) my thoughts and fears into the open was vital.
Right now though life is life. No major projects or initiatives to contemplate. And I'm grateful for that. Learning to live in the grey, as my former therapist said, was an important lesson for me to learn. So here I am, middle school flag football enthusiast, craft store chauffeur, dog walker, muffin baker, freelance designer, unclutterer of drawers, PTA president, yogi. I occasionally write for my local newspaper. I talk to my mom just about every day. I'm generally home when my kids get back from school. I go to bed at a reasonable hour. I meditate every day.
I have ideas for potential projects, great ideas sometimes that my former self would've been researching and writing, sending out proposals, making things happen. Now I acknowledge them and let them go.
I wonder if I'll ever been driven again to way I used to be. But I'm realizing it's not the accomplishments, it's the being that matters.