Saturday, November 1, 2014

finding my voice

Once upon a time, I used to write here in this little space nearly every day. 
It was like breathing. Or washing my hair. Or something.  

Wake up. Brush teeth. Smooch husband. Eat. Take care of child. Blog. Eat. Sleep. 

I've taken breaks before, but it's been months and months since I last typed out a post or even thought about writing one. I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Changes and busyness and needing a breather from the internets are a few reasons. As I folded a mountain of my sweaters today, I thought more about why I've tucked my pen away. The answer hit me square between the eyes. 

I had lost my voice. 
Or I hushed it for a while. 

I go through seasons when I need to listen more. A time when it's important and wonderful for things to soak in and simmer without my own voice getting in the way. It's necessary to create space and slow down enough for me to hear the sound of my breath and the beating of my heart. Sometimes that trumps writing and sharing and hitting the publish button on a blog. Those are times when it's good to just be. 

This afternoon as I piled those sweaters onto the shelves of my closet, I felt the tug to write and to share again. So here I am, imperfect and fumbling over the keyboard and not at all in my blogging groove and....smiling. Because even though breathers are good, I missed this

I won't make any sweet promises or grand writing plans because I can't be trusted and would probably fail before tomorrow's end. So I'll just say that I'll listen to those tugs when they come along and write because I still believe every word of this paragraph I wrote last October:

"I don't scrapbook or journal so this is my space to share and record all the things I want to remember and keep alive. This is where I get my chat on. This spot is where family and friends can come to get glimpses into our days and hear my rambling thoughts. I want for Josiah to be able to come here when he's older to read and laugh and know me and my heart more. To see himself, his childhood, his journey through the eyes of his mama." 

And that's all she wrote.
For tonight.


sweaters

4 comments:

  1. Beautiful. Love that last paragraph. That's how I feel about photos. Wish I had the eloquent words to go along with the photos!

    ReplyDelete
  2. You've been missed! I was so happy to read your newest post! Welcome back!

    ReplyDelete
  3. I love your voice and heart in any way, shape, or form.

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