My last "long silence" lasted several months". This past one, eight weeks. I received this note in my fortune cookie from Christmas Eve. Now, here I am blogging again. Hey, if a slip of paper is my motivation, so be it. After all, a wildfire can begin with a small spark.
The last time I blogged was the Sunday before the Presidential election. Neither that post, nor that event, went as I had hoped. That was two months ago. Eight weeks of potential blogging. So much to be said and shared. Instead, I retreated, hid away behind Thanksgiving preparations, a train ride into the city, holiday decorations, and a Christmas Day feast. But there was no annual cookie giveaway. No handcrafted gifts. Some of the usual decor never made it out of the boxes. One of the outside trees was never lit. For the first time ever, on December 26th, I removed all traces of this season, including the tree. Usually I wait until New Years' Eve. This year, something was missing. I wanted the year to end, and a new one to begin immediately.
Now that all the trappings of my favorite time of the year have been put away in newly labeled boxes, and sitting on recently assembled mobile metal shelves, my mood has changed. The first of many seed catalogues have arrived--an opportunity to plan and dream. Two snowfalls came and went--despite my age, I still find it exciting to prepare for it, and to watch it fall. Not even thoughts of shoveling it can diminish my joy. My media consumption has been filled with YouTube videos about woodworking and bushcraft. Although my garage is unbearably cold these days, I went ahead and bought a new power tool, in anticipation of future furniture projects.
And, I am blogging again. April 5, 2025, will be the fifth anniversary of this blog. When it first began, my life was different. The world was shutting down due to Covid, while my own life was opening up. Major renovations in my house coincided with changes in my body, mind, and spirit. Midlife is called the second puberty for good reason. You would think the wisdom of surviving it once would have made it easier. Not when others never bothered to learn. But I was hopeful, and perhaps a bit naive. Starting this blog was an expression of that yearning and excitement.
Yet, things change. Time takes its toll. Surprises arise, and you adjust. Else, you wallow in the "should've, would've, could've, but didn't" thinking. We all succumb at some point. Eventually, with effort, you get out, and find something else.
2024 is done, and 2025 has begun. This blog means something to me. What exactly? I am still searching. But, since the definition of insanity is "doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting a different result", I am changing things up. Not all at once. Because small steps work better than big leaps when you want to change.
For now, I am going to blog on Mondays instead of Sundays. Sundays are too fluid and unpredictable. Mondays, however, are my weekly grocery days. My schedule is more structured. Early in the morning, I can draft something. Then, while I do my typical routines, I can ruminate on the writing. My twenty-minute commute to the store is a great opportunity to gather my thoughts. After I put the groceries away, and do some meal prepping, I can take another look at the first draft, make some changes, improve it. That brings me to early afternoon, when I usually have to chauffeur my children to places. And eventually make dinner. More chances to think over my post. Finally, after my evening chores, I can sit down one last time, edit away, settle on a final draft, and upload it to this blog.
Well, that's the plan. Something has to change--I have to start somewhere. My Monday schedule rarely deviates from the description above, so there is a chance it will work.
There are four months until my blog's fifth anniversary.
Plenty of time.
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