Ceremony
When I used to write, it used to always have to feel like it was a big, coherent idea that I could loop around and break up and contextualize, and that at least I felt like I had a new subtle handle on. But often that subtleness would derail without me noticing, and I would end up writing some variant of the same thing over and over.
Everything would also have this heavy air of something substantial, as if writing for the thing that someone would pick up and say "hey, this is great". That did happen, sometimes, but it was worse-than-lottery odds, and that's a hard way to live but an easy way to get disappointed. And writing for "hits" isn't conducive to great thinking.
Here I want to make the writing itself the ceremony. The act of thinking a thought, capturing it briskly and hopefully crisply and then posting it. I have taught myself that it's important that stuff is posted/out there. Chances are it would be good for me to unlearn it, and I have tried to, which caused the heady ceremony of the things I did write to rise even more.
I don't do much in this world, and one of the only things I do is think, and everyone else is writing and sharing their thoughts much more, and I feel left behind if I don't get to do that too. Sharing is therapy for me.