Yes, folks. I have been going through some stuff. Going through some stuff, I have.
I know that I’m feeling my way through it, but it’s a process, isn’t it?
And it’s so tempting to fall into defensive traps, thoughts, actions and words that separate us from each other instead of drawing us close. I find myself fighting that almost daily now, disillusioned by life and love, wondering what’s next, trying my best to learn, finally, how to live in the moment, each and every blessed one of them.
I catch myself trying to make sense of relationships and wanting to will myself to keep an open heart in the midst of a world that’s filled with pain, some of it intentional, most of it not. Openheartedness is so much better, don’t you think?
I realized, though, that Monday’s posts made little to no sense in the context of a public blog that only shares 1/100th of the story. There is so much more — so much more.
Because I’m one of those who cringes to think that the folks at work are reading her life, and because I’m not foolish enough to think that my daughter may not one day grow up and find this damned thing, I try to be sagacious in what I share and what I don’t.
I fear, however, that it’s led to a relatively boring blog — the top 1% of my life that I’m willing to share publicly, especially since these months have been the best and worst of times for me.
The last six months have brought an extraordinary amount of change. And I realize that I’ve hid behind buttons with cute sayings and short snippets about the gopher who longed to make his home under my grass as a way of not coming out and saying what I was going through — for hundreds of reasons, thousands perhaps. (Okay, a bit of an exaggeration. I do that. I’m an exaggerator. What kind of storyteller would I be if I didn’t allow myself a Beowulf exaggeration every now and then?)
But I realize that it all must seem rather disjointed for anyone who may actually be trying to follow along. I apologize for that. I know you understand.