I have written about the value of consistent content before.
There’s a justifiable reason for that though. I have created so much content that I’m a very easy person to find online. This particular talent attracts freelance clients. It has also helped me build an online community of neurodiverse people just like me, along with other, professional creatives.
This approach has worked so well for me for such a long-time. So in the early days of the pandemic, I thought that this approach would be just as effective. Turns out I was completely wrong. For example, I haven’t written a single new blog post on Rosie Writing Space, my blog since October. But this wasn’t the first time where I didn’t write a new blog post for a month or more.
At first, I felt guilty about it, and when asked why I haven’t blogged in a while my only real answer was:
“I don’t know.”
Then, after noticing that this didn’t affect my analytics, I let out a sigh of relief.
The more I get to know other neurodiverse people, the more I’m aware of an aspect of disability that I have failed to acknowledge: processing
In the best of times, content creation and building a community is a lot of information processing.
One tweet, blog post, audio clip, etc is an exercise where I have to process not only the words I say but the act of clicking a button and uploading a file. If someone responds to it, that’s even more information that has to be processed.
When you add in the limitations of a COVID landscape, that’s even more stuff that needs to be processed.
A desire to write a blog post by a certain day of time can be in direct conflict with someone else’s need to go on a Zoom call right now, or other, similar issues. I have been a remote worker for six years, and my secret to thriving has been my routine.
Calls are only at certain times, I have maximum and minimum amounts of time that I will dedicate to completing projects and certain tasks.