Time to Kill

And here I find myself with time to kill and a blog post to write.  It went something like this.

Oh wow, I’m unpacked, my apartment is clean, my kid is fed and happily playing independently, my bills are paid, my email inbox is clear… what to do? 

I sit down at the computer and see the “blog” reminder alert hovering in the upper right hand corner of my screen.

urgh.

Urgh?  What’s that about?  Apparently I’m avoiding something.  I am very clear that I’m happy to be home.  I’m not exactly unbusy, every moment of my life for the next several weeks seems scheduled with only enough breathing room to contemplate wasting time on Facebook a few times a day (which I will surely do), and I’m somewhat grateful for that.  Because without that busy-ness where would I be?

Face to face with what’s next.  That’s where.

on top of a mountain in new hampshire--literally and metaphorically.

on top of a mountain in new hampshire–literally and metaphorically.

This summer I traveled to Oregon, New Hampshire, New York, Washington, & Alaska (in that order).  I am very clear about being traveled out.  I was very much looking forward to coming home to my normal life.  But my “normal life” means figuring out what to do with my life.

So while I know that I’m content to be consumed with domesticity as I catch up on my room parent duties, quality kiddo time, and chores it’s not going to last.  Something is going to grab hold of me and start shaking until I acknowledge that I’m not honoring myself unless I’m actively writing.  And, I’m not actively writing right now.

I’m so not actively writing that when I was on a cruise ship, in the gym, on a stairmaster, watching Eat Pray Love (what?  it was on!), I found myself bawling.  And not because I was touched by the story (well, maybe a little).  No, bawling because Elizabeth Gilbert wrote her memoir(s), and had a movie made about them, and was played by Julia Roberts.  Not me.  Her.  Where am I in all of this?  Where is my memoir and related aftermath?

Well, Kate, it’s inside you…  and that’s where it will stay until you let it out.

And that’s what I’m avoiding.  I’m not avoiding it any less than I was when I started writing this…  and now the child beckons (saved by the bell)!

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