So, I'm sitting here with an open Word document, and somehow, the words are flying. There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen, and at the moment, it seems that I could type for hours. I suddenly have so much to say, and it just won't stay hidden anymore.
I have to admit, hearing the sounds my fingers are making, flying over the keys with no hesitation (and hopefully very few typos), I feel such a sense of relief. Writing, good writing, clear writing, has been impossible for so long... it's like finally scratching that awful itch you can never quite get to. But, one day, your angle is just... right... and then... ahhhhh. Finally.
Sometimes, when you least expect it, there is a light that shines in your direction, when the road is dark and you feel that no matter where you turn, which direction you choose, it isn't the right one. There is always a choice, sometimes you are simply so blinded by all you're dealing with, thinking, feeling...it just seems there are no more choices. But then there's a word, a song, a paragraph, a voice. The the lights come on, sometimes slowly, sometimes all at once, and you think “Yes! There it is! How did you know?”
This year has been a very long one for me and those I love, in as many different ways as you could possibly think of. There have been amazingly great times, and amazingly awful ones- very little this year has made middle of the road. I kept waiting for it to, but it never quite found that stride. And in wanting it so badly, I lost mine too.
I've been fumbling for a long time, wondering, waiting, searching without any idea where I was supposed to be going. I know it's somewhere special, I know there is something I'm supposed to be doing, and this year, for the first time, I think I truly lost sight of what it had always been. Writing has been my lifesaver for as long as I can remember, and yet, I could barely string two sentences together. I think that took something from me, and finding it again was something I had to fight for. I've worked so hard to keep it all together that it all just... sort of fell apart.
I have to let go, of so many things, and doing that has been an uphill battle. But it has to go- all of it, the excess baggage standing there in the corner, weighing me down and keeping me from truly taking a step forward and getting on with the business of making a life worth retelling someday. Because if that isn't what I'm doing, every day, then what am I doing here?
Where is it coming from, this clarity? From a voice, of course. A paragraph, a phrase. A new blog that has touched me on a lot of levels and given me some insight that is long overdue.I'm Listening is more than just my mother in law's blog :). She has a voice and a way with words that reach pretty deep. Be sure and give her a read- you won't be disappointed.
I'm not going to promise to be back soon, or talk much about the coming year. I'm just going to do. I'm tired of talking about what I'm going to do, or want to do, or need to do. I want to talk about what I'm doing, what I've done, what's actually going on, and not going to be.
I want to tell you stories, fiction and non. But more than that? I want to listen to my children tell the stories someday, and be able to truly cherish what they are saying, what they remember, what I remember. Because a the end of the day, it isn't about the happy ending. It's all about the story.