Sometimes I write a blog post just to write a blog post. Because I’ve committed to writing daily for a year. Maybe I leave it too late and I just need to write something and post it. On some of those days, I don’t like what I write. I don’t think it’s that good. It seems unlikely to change anyone’s life even in a small way. But is it any wonder that I don’t like what I write—a rushed, forced thought?
You get out what you put in.