Did anyone else have to google mea culpa? No? Just me? Cool.
Though my immediate reaction is to allow Sara to take all the blame for our blogging hiatus (mostly because I’m the little sister and that’s just my instinct), at some point I must shoulder some responsibility. My last few weeks/months/years have been filled with mostly normal, everyday routines. I get up, I go to work, I come home. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Though my job is varied enough that I am kept well on my toes, at some point you pause and realize that it’s been three weeks/six weeks/twelve weeks and you aren’t quite sure what’s happened.
I have to admit that maintaining a blog is a lot harder than I imagined it would be. There’s an inspiration and a beauty to the everyday that I sometimes fail to see. I want to write about things that matter and I want my writing to connect to everyone in some little way. And thinking about achieving that can be quite exhausting. Because my minutes are not always filled with some great purpose. Sometimes a day is just a day.
Personally that’s a hard concept for me to grasp. One of my greatest fears is me lying on my death bed, realizing that I’ve run out of time. Time to create, time with friends and family, time alone. I want each second to burst with some kind of life, I want to be aware and a live every second of every day. I want what I say to be meaningful, I want my life to be meaningful. I want to try and learn and to experience everything.
So when I sit down after a brutally long day and I open my computer to write a blog post and I realize I have nothing I want to say (or even worse, I want to say everything and cannot find the words) I get frustrated. And sad. And it makes me want to quit. So when Sara suggested a slight break from blogging so she could concentrate on moving, my immediate feeling was relief.
But this is of course silly. Just because there are moments that are not big and beautiful, doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy of remembrance or thought. We see something we know a friend would love and we share it, or we take the perfect picture that needs #nofilter, or we find a song or a book or a quote that breaks our heart. Maybe these moments are ephemeral and nothing to write home about. But my job from now on isn’t to try and find the meaning in every moment. It’s going to be to live it–and hopefully write about it.
Because being alive does not mean that our hearts must be full every minute. It means putting one foot forward, again and again and again, until we are where and who we want to be. And hopefully we will find inspiration along the way. So welcome back to the trip friends. It’s gonna be one great ride.