“Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires.” –Charles Caleb Colton
“Time is free, but it’s priceless. You can’t own it, but you can use it. You can’t keep it, but you can spend it. Once you’ve lost it you can never get it back.” –Harvey McKay
“Every second that goes by is a point of no return.” -J.R. Rim
August 12, 2018
Dust off the old keyboard.
Stretch out the fingers.
I can still do this.
It’s been a while. Writing feels like an old friend. It’s strange, slightly awkward, but it also feels like home. I’ve written journal entries, which I am going to re-vamp a bit and share on this blog, but I haven’t written or published any blog posts in a little over six years. I’m trying to figure out why and a lot of reasons running through my head. The last post was about my MaMaw that passed away. I think that was the hardest post I ever had to write so maybe I took a step back after that. Time passes and it becomes easier to turn away. Then about a year after my last post, I got pregnant and my life turned upside down. I found myself getting overwhelmed with learning how to be a wife again and a new mother all at the same time. I lost the energy to write. I lost the passion to write. Writing would still call me. It would whisper my name, like an old friend. Ideas would run through my head. Words that I felt needed to be written, but I pushed writing to the back of my mind. I had so many “good” reasons to not pick up my laptop.
- I don’t have the time.
- I am too tired.
- No one would be interested in my life right now.
- It is too late for me to accomplish my goals.
But yet, it still whispered, “don’t give up on your dream.” My love for writing never left me. I lacked belief in myself and conviction for what I had to say. Six years later, I find myself still exhausted, still learning how to be a good wife and mother to two beautiful little boys, still overwhelmed by life, still feeling like I am failing in more than one way on a daily basis, but my passion is reignited with a need to heal, move on, reach out to others because I know I am not alone, and to be heard because I haven’t felt heard in a long time. Writing is like a string that binds us. Writing anchors me and pulls me close to others that might be floating recklessly alone, just like myself. It is a way to say, “hi. Take my extra life vest. Hold on tight. You are not alone. The calm water will come.”
Forgive me for losing my way. Forgive me for losing my voice. Forgive me for losing faith in myself. Come along with me on this new journey to find my voice again and to find the inspiration in the chaos.