Writing Myself a Walking Staff

When I first came up with (and participated in) the first-ever cycle of my original Feast of the Wandering Pen challenge a month ago, I didn’t really know where it was going to take me. I just knew I needed something to get me back to writing for myself again, like I used to before my copywriting business blew up. 

A reason to write every day. A reason to keep showing up, even when life felt like a whirlwind of client projects, chores, and distractions.

So I decided to carve out a commitment, like a notch in the bark of a tree. One post a day. No pressure for perfection. No requirements as far as topic, length, or style. Just daily presence and steady forward movement, even if keeping up only meant posting a few sentences on certain days.

At first, it didn’t feel like I was doing anything special beyond creating a good habit I hoped would stick. But then something shifted. 

Slowly, day by day, I started to feel steadier, and the writing itself eventually started to feel like something I could lean on. I found myself constantly coming up with ideas for new posts, finding inspiration in everything from movies I put on in the background while I worked to everyday conversations with Seth or friends online.

A Staff Built from Small Choices

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was writing myself a walking staff. Not a literal one, of course, but something symbolic, solid, and supportive all the same. Each day I chose to write — even when I didn’t particularly feel like it, even when I felt like I had nothing to say — I showed up and added to what I was building. A bit of bark here. A twist of leather there. Occasionally, even a new groove or two in the wood for flare.

The staff slowly grew from repetition and quiet persistence. Some days my contributions were made of tea and incense. Other days, mental exhaustion and more cussing than I should probably admit to. But every time I showed up for it, it showed up for me in turn.

The funny part is that none of that really hit me until today, the last day of the challenge. 

This morning, I pulled a card from my Green Witch Oracle deck as part of my morning reading. It was the same card that showed up not long ago in another reading –– the Walking Staff card. But it landed with a different kind of weight, since I knew I'd be posting my last Wandering Pen entry within hours. This time, I felt like it was saying, "Yes. You did this. You built something real."

What the Staff Is Made Of

Looking back, the staff I was building wasn't made strictly of words. I now realize it was also made of:

• Days I felt like skipping, because there was so much to do, but didn't
• Posts I almost didn’t share because they felt too small, too witchy, or too weird
• The incense I burned to clear the air before writing
• The movies that unexpectedly inspired some of my posts, both directly and indirectly
• The days when writing came easily, as well as the ones when it felt more like dragging stones uphill

It’s also made of the quiet joy of watching Seth stick with the challenge, too. He wrote right along with me and published every day in his wonderful newsletter, Fragments and Frequencies. Some days, we wrote quietly and separately in our respective office spaces. Other days, we shared thoughts about what we might write next. 

His presence became part of the rhythm and part of the walking. So this isn’t just my staff. It’s ours, and I love that for both of us.

The Staff Knows the Way Forward

Today, I feel proud. Not just because I finished something, but because I kept going when I could’ve quit. No one would’ve noticed if I skipped a day. It would’ve been easy to say, “Eh, I’ll write tomorrow instead, just this once.” But I never did that –– not even once. And now I have this awesome accomplishment I can carry with me into my next adventure.

This staff reminds me that my writing practice isn’t just some loose, abstract idea I keep meaning to return to anymore. It’s now a living, breathing part of my routine, and it’s here to help me walk forward into whatever comes next. New projects. More client work. Maybe a new writing cycle or creative experiment. Maybe just a deeper relationship with my own voice.

I don’t have to know exactly where I’m going, because I have the staff, and it knows. Or at the very least, it can help me stay steady while I figure things out.

The Magic of Finishing Something

There’s something really magical about finishing something... anything. Most people never get there. Not because they’re lazy or uncommitted, but because life is hard and busy and distracting. Finishing, especially when there's no boss or client hanging over your shoulder in anticipation of the results, requires intention.

And now here I am. The last day of the challenge, staff in hand, a fire pit waiting in the garden for later, and leftover pizza with Seth to share. The last day of the Cali Roots livestream is playing in the background. It's a nice place to find myself on a Sunday, for sure.

I don’t know what I’ll write next. I have a few ideas. Some professional. Some poetic. Maybe a few pieces that reflect on what this experience taught me in a more structured way. But today, I just want to acknowledge the staff, hold it in my hand, and say, “We did it.”

Because we did. And now it's time to keep walking. Same pen. Same path. Stronger stride.

* This piece is part of this month's Feast of the Wandering Pen, a lunar adventure into presence, creativity, and commitment.