My fingers are cold. It’s less than 60 degrees around here and that is far too chilly for a California girl like me to cope with in any reasonable way. So I will complain about it. And then on Wednesday night when I board a plane to Chicago and temps of less than 30 with wind chill factor beyond what I can even imagine wind chill factor will be I will return home a few days later grateful for the opportunity to be in 58 degrees with still air. Really, in my living room at this moment… it’s likely no less than 68. But I exaggerate. A lot. No exaggeration.
I’m writing again. It’s been a while. I’ve had a bit of a stick up my butt about it.
Turns out it was a little case of trying to do what I had been doing even though everything is different.
When I was writing about how everything in my life was wrong and what I was going to do to make it easy the material was coming fast and hard. It was easy to sit down here, start banging out my thoughts, have an epiphany near the end, close it out, hit publish and let it be out there in the world. I got most of my learning from the experience of writing about it here.
Then after changing a lot of things… things were changed. And there wasn’t as much to do anymore. We recently moved and it took much longer than the usual two days to move, unpack, and hang everything… and I didn’t like it. And for the week or two it took to get everything put away and organized I moaned and groaned about it and it was a really big part of my focus and therefore my life. And then, it was over. And I didn’t have any more unpacking to do. And I needed to find something else to fill my focus and therefore life with… but when it wasn’t so obvious as “oh look, there’s a box full of stuff… go unpack it so the stuff can be put away and the box can go to the garage” it wasn’t so easy to figure out what I was (and what i should have been) doing.
So now that the house of my huge personal transformation has been unpacked and everything put away I will still go shopping for groceries and there will be dishes to do and laundry (oh goodness, will there be laundry). Maybe we’ll even get rid of the old couch and get something with more stuffing… but when those small tasks are done and things are put away again it will just be me, in the house of myself, face to face with the bigger task of what to do with it.
What I know is that I should write. What I don’t know yet is how, about what, when, where… or anything else really. It’s a good enough start.