Thirty-five times. This year (so far!), I’ve hit “Publish” 35 times. That’s only 17 times short of an average of once per week. Though, the last time I posted was seven weeks, or roughly 50 days ago.
Why am I telling you this? Well, for as long as I can remember, I’ve had some type of journal. In grade school, it was single-subject, spiral notebooks that my grandmother would give to me in bulk each August. Then, I graduated to the single-column blog, which has now had about four different names and domains.
So forth and so on and many moons passed, I find myself realizing that, while I love to write and have the great pleasure of doing it as part of my day job, maybe I have a coping problem. Maybe, I’ve associated writing with my feelings, or the processing of my feelings, for so long, making it almost impossible to write a complete thought (specifically, on this site) without it somehow being overtaken by a “woe is me, but not really because I’m good” nosedive.
Needless to say, I don’t think I hit that “one post per week” average this year because, in a weird way, this blog was driving me in a rut. Sure, I was busy, adjusting to my new role and enjoying consistent community offline. Additionally, though, I just didn’t have words to say.
It’s been rather liberating, knowing that I have other plans on Sunday nights and Wednesday nights, which were usually the times that I’d write. Instead, I’ve been going to the gym or watching movies with friends or chatting with the latest “newly engaged” bro in my friend circle.
This week, however, I’m home for Christmas. It’s the longest I’ve been home at one time since moving to New York in 2014. I’m really grateful to have this time away from the city, and I’m really grateful to be spending it here in Mississippi where I’m surrounded by trees and deer and stars and family.
This place is where I’m surrounded by thoughts, and it’s also where I more often than not have the time and space to jot down said thoughts. Thus, I’m making it a goal to post every day for the remainder of my trip. And if there’s a moral to this post (Reflection 009), it’s:
Sometimes, you have to put down the pen, which can be used to craft, or process a life that you thought you’d have, and try living life IRL. Yes, I usually blame my writing absences on being busy or having something too difficult to share at the moment. But this time, I haven’t wanted to write because I didn’t need to write.
You see, writing had always been my friend, my confidante and companion. I have that elsewhere now, and it’s a wonderful gift from God.