I wish I could remember where I recently heard or read this:
the wise man speaks because he has something to say.”
I had a wordy post ready to share back then and never felt like following through. So here I am checking into a dark and empty auditorium, wondering if this microphone is even on. Like that clumsy squeak piercing the emptiness, I’m stepping up to say, “I’m still here!”
I’ve been asking the questions, “Do I have to say something or do I have something to say?” and “How do I order the minutes in a day to get it said?” I think I’ve become more skilled than I was last fall in the daily management of life. Writing is still something to figure out. This blog will remain on the quieter side until that ever gets settled. One thing I’ve frightfully concluded is that this writing thing isn’t entirely my own idea. I’ve tried to get away from it and, for some reason, I don’t think I’m supposed to so I’m choosing to obey.
If I ever must leave here for good, I will say so. But if it’s just plain quiet for a while, it’s because I’m working at becoming a mother in multiple facets since acquiring such fortune 12 years ago, chiseling away at mental marble, or just letting things sit until I truly have something to say.