After days…weeks…a month of not blogging, the thought of starting up again feels overwhelming.
In the beginning, it was easy to let days slip past in a blur of road trips, family visits, and holidays, but once settled back into our routine, time moved slower again. Though still stuffed with work and kids and new projects, there were moments that could have been dedicated to pushing aside the cobwebs and putting words on paper – but the habit of not writing is much easier to fall into than to break. I can’t say how many times I have said to myself, “I need to write about this;” how many times I have marked a milestone on the calendar and told myself that would be the day I would climb back on the horse.
After we returned home from an epic nine day trip across five states.
New Years Day.
Zara’s second birthday.
These are just a few of many things that should have been recorded and reflected upon, but were not.
I used to think I wanted to be a writer. I love the quiet of an empty room, the only sound coming from my fingers on the keys as I turn thoughts into something real. In high school and college, even after, I took a few writing classes, mostly as an excuse for letting myself sit down and generate piece after piece, or really making myself spend time writing and rewriting a single work.
Before I had children, much free time was spent crafting with words. After Nora was born, I stopped most of it until one day, nearly five years ago I decided to start this blog. On Nantucket, with just one child and less of a career, I managed to write blog posts that were actually interesting and not just a rendition of our days. Since moving off-island, a lot of that has been lost but I still managed to at least post something – which is certainly better than nothing, but feels frustrating and in the last few months, I’ve felt a shift within myself and how I think about blogging.
I want to write real things, not just “this is what we did” posts.
I want to record the depths of our lives, but, most importantly, I want to record the depths of my feelings as I navigate this crazy, joy-filled, but often incredibly frustrating and disappointing life that I have found myself in.
I want to again use writing as a tool of processing my place in the world around me.
Toward the end of last year, I realized this is how I want to write; I realized it and, feeling overwhelmed, I promptly buried my head in the sand. I stopped writing almost completely, allowing excuses to take over time I used to dedicate to blogging.
Today, I am climbing back on the horse. I am rededicating myself to this space, to sharing words, and baring my written sole. Not long after we moved to Wyoming, I wrote about how a writer is the person who stays in the room. I didn’t really make New Years resolutions this year because I’m still chipping away at my 30 before 30 goals, which seemed like enough. But one thing I did resolve, is to start writing again this year, to get back on the horse, and to hang on a little tighter this time.