One thing I have really missed this year is my writing. The kids have grown so fast. The things that have happened have been huge and life altering and yet I couldn’t bring myself to find the right words so the occasions kept slipping by. I would scroll back and read so many pointless entries, celebrating and berating so many almost inconsequential events and I would wonder how I managed to muster the energy to write about those when I can’t find it in me to write about the real big stuff. But that is just it isn’t it? The real big stuff takes your breath away, paralyzing you. it takes every ounce of life juice from you and make you want to use it in the living rather than in the retrospective look back. To be fair I did write but reverting to ye old paper pen because somehow when there is resolving to do, and words are more vents, nothing does it better than good old fashioned pen on paper, pressing into the lines, forming deep impressions into the next page, taking away all the negative energy and replacing it with a calmer acceptance.
This year I want to write. Here. Where its out there because to me this is best most grown up way of dealing with what happens. By putting it into words that make sense out of the confines of one’s own mind. This year I want to be back to celebrating and berating the tiny because another thing I have learnt (or should I say relearnt?) this year is that all the real big stuff is simply yhe tiny stuff feeling ignored and piling up. So this year I plan to give the tiny stuff its due.