It has been said and mostly agreed upon, that if you are not writing every day, you are not a writer. I always honor commitments that I make to myself – whether it is a commitment to walk every day, or to exercise every day, or any other promise that I make to myself. I even honor those commitments that I have made to someone else. When I began writing this blog, I committed to writing it without fail, which I did – until I moved to Arkansas – which was a major adjustment. I began again once I felt settled there; but just when everything seemed to be falling into place, my world turned upside down again. My life has turned topsy turvy so many times that if I was a compost pile, I would be pure black gold by now.
I am dubious about beginning this blog which will now be for the third time. Do I dare hit the restart button on my writing career? Am I doomed to continue wandering through my life like a nomad, where I am constantly subjected to being replanted in a different garden? I am like an explorer on a journey with no clear destination. Since I left Arkansas, now more than two months ago, the clarity and direction that I continue to seek has remained elusive. I am failing the test for which I cannot provide the answers. I am hanging as though from a ledge. Will I fall into yet another abyss, or will I find a foothold where I can stand on solid ground once again? Or, will I return to that great unknown, from which I came almost 7 decades ago?
When my job was terminated, I headed straight back to Wyoming. I did this, not because I like Wyoming, or had the slightest desire to return; but nearly all of my personal belongings are still in storage here. My youngest daughter lives here and the other two live in Colorado. Remaining in Arkansas did not even feel like an option, because I had rent coming due and my income had just vanished. It crossed my mind that since I was halfway there, perhaps I should return to Virginia, where I had left my heart and soul nine years earlier. But, I did not go there. I felt intuitively that I should return to Wyoming, and I believed that I would find a place to move into within a couple of weeks.
Two months have now slipped by and we are quickly heading into autumn. I am no nearer to the answers than I was back in July. I have had plenty of time on my hands, so I should have been writing instead of just sitting here spinning my wheels like a tire that simply digs itself deeper into the mud. I have felt emotionally paralyzed and this is not conducive to good writing. I have also been grieving over a loss that I cannot yet speak about. I know that once I hit “publish” to resume this blog, I will force myself to remain committed to it. At some point, I may be able to write about those things that right now, are far too painful to verbalize. I know that the possibility remains, that life may get crazy again, leaving me precious little time to write. I will continue to write; however, because if nothing else, it is good therapy. I will continue to write in hopes that I can lift up another person who may be feeling down. I will continue to write because it is my nature to do so. If life has taught me anything, it has taught me who I really am and to love and honor the gifts that have been given to me.
