I don't know why in the world I am starting a blog, honestly. I just know that deep down in my soul, I need to write. I've thought about this a very long, bloody time. It's not that I'm lazy or can't do it - I just haven't ever felt the NEED to do it. Recently that has changed. Everything is changing, really. Maybe it's the time, or my age, or that I have the time (well, sort of.) So basically I have to go back to the question, "why now?"
It really began a few months ago with a near emotional breakdown that lead me to seek the help of a counselor (read: psychologist.) to clue me in that life was changing, and that I had better begin adapting. No, she didn't tell me that, I figured that out all on my own. With kids grown (or mostly) and a husband working A LOT, I found myself alone way too much of the time, and frankly depressed. In roll the feelings of self-doubt, musings about what the future holds, etc. In other words, full-blown mid-life crisis stuff. In all this self-discovery that I have been going through, the idea hit me that I need to be writing.
Several years ago I lost a dear friend to an overdose of bi-polar meds. She had been a rock for me since high school, and someone I communicated with via email nearly daily. We told each other everything, but more importantly some days just let ourselves ramble about this and that and anything that popped into our heads that day. It was a great outlet for both of us, who didn't feel the need to comment or advise each other by any means, but were content to just listen (or read, as in this case) without judgement. I miss her dearly. It has been since her passing that I starting feeling adrift. Lately I figured out it is because I no longer had that outlet of writing. Enter a niece with a blog, and presto - an idea is born for a blog of my own. So right up front I have to say that these little musings will now and forever be dedicated to Kate. I wish you were still here reading, but perhaps you know anyway...
In September of this year, and not long after that mental fizzle, I received a phone call out of the blue from an old friend who knew me 15 years ago and with whom I have spottily communicated through the years. Our conversation seemed as if no time had passed. Great to hear his voice...wonderful, in fact. Through our long talk we got around to writing. He had been a poet, and a good one. I wondered if he still wrote (sadly, not.) He asked if I was working on "Sin of Pride." Good grief. Hadn't thought about that in probably 12 or 13 years. A story idea based on the life of my grandmother (loosely) and that I had not worked on. I began to wonder why, but more importantly, began thinking about her and that story again. Pretty soon ideas were coming to me, and I felt not only that I COULD write, but that I NEEDED to write that story. He lit a fire again whose ember had nearly vanquished. I am grateful.
Today in the counselor's office, we spoke of leading a life that is not just filled (with to-do lists and events, tv shows to watch, places to go, groceries to buy...) but is FULfilled. It's a point I have been missing for QUITE some time. So I have decided to blog about these efforts to write again, and to simply muse on the world around me and my role in it. We shall see where this takes me, but for the first time in a while, I am hopeful, and excited to have something to DO that has real meaning to me.
Thanks Kate, and Paul. I'm about to "Just Do It." :)