Writing on the Wall

This is usually the part where I come in and apologize for my absence. The fact is, I've been in here quite frequently in recent weeks, I just haven't been posting for public consumption. Most of what I've written is kind of all over the place - me working through my feelings on whatever the topic may be and going back to reflect on those initial thoughts when I find myself in a different head space. Some days I'm making lists - what do I need to do in order to do what I want to do? And also, what DO I want to do? I've written my way to insanity and back. I've written dreams to fruition. I've written the hair off my head, and I have literally written people out of my life.

So why am I back in the yard today? Well.... because while most of the people who used to frequent this blog likely jumped ship long ago (understandable, given my highly inconsistent upkeep), there are at least 3 people who I know still check for whatever thoughts I have to offer on a given day. More importantly, the commitment I made with the creation of this blog was to me, and one thing the current state of isolation with the pandemic has underscored for me is how often I abandon commitments I make to myself. Trust and believe if I tell someone else I'm going to do something, good money says it's going to get done, but I've openly struggled with negotiating my own place in my list of priorities, and the struggle is still very real.

It's interesting really; I've boarded and buckled securely into the self-care boat in the sense of making sure I take time for myself, and take care of my mind and body, but for some reason I still find myself negotiating the importance of things with less material outcomes. Yes, writing produces a post - an actual thing - but not writing doesn't impact me in any meaningful way, if that makes sense. And it's not that it's without consequence, it's just that the consequence of that non-action isn't immediately felt. It's not until weeks or months later when there's this extended void in my voice here that I feel it, but feeling that has its own implications. My "inlook" is never quite as fragile as when the pages of this blog have been bare for an obscene length of time. And I've dealt with enough in these past 4 months to excuse it away as "going through something," but those are the times I need to be writing most. Those are the times when what I have to say has real value, as evident in conversations I've had with people over the years, and the people who continue to quote me on their social media platforms to this day. A friend of mine recently reminded me of that, so I suppose you can thank him for my being back in the yard.

I'm not sorry though. When I feel the need to take time for me, I don't count any space an obligation. I think that's something we should all accept about each other - we're not entitled to anyone's time or attention even when we're so accustomed to having it. That's why we should appreciate it when we do have it. Cause one day..... well.