Finding the mojo
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Oh, little blog. Will you ever be a regular part of my routine again?
I feel as though you are on life support, and I can't quite bring myself to pull the plug. You are quietly dying, neglected in your corner of my busy life. I love you and think of our great times together, and wish to be back in that place again. The place where I came to you and wrote often. Poured out my feelings and documented the everyday wonderfulness of our lives.
Yet I wonder lately if it would be easier without you weighing on the back of my mind, nudging me to pay attention to you, guilting the part of me that wants to see you thriving and well again.
Sigh.
What to do?
I feel as though most of the blogs I started with are gone. The fabulous circle of internet friends who made this world so fun has dwindled to the remaining few who bravely keep on posting. I want to be one of you. Really, I do. I just lack the motivation and the mojo. I feel as though I am out of ideas. That I have written on every topic humanly possible, and then some.
But then? Something will happen and a little drawer in my mind opens up and files away an idea. I think to myself, Yes! I could write a post about this. And then the phone rings, or the emails come in, and all of a sudden a month has passed without a post.
I hate that.
I miss the writing most of all. The cathartic clearing of my head. The joy of sitting down, fingers to keyboard, ideas giving way to words. The trembling fear of pushing publish on a heartfelt or emotional post, that ultimately led to peace and serenity in my soul. The giggling and secret joy, as I got my own jokes, and found myself far more humorous than anyone else ever could.
I need that. I need this.
I need a journaling outlet. I need a way to look back and remember how fantastic this life of mine is. It's going by at an ever increasing pace and I know I'll regret not jotting it down. Not remembering just how beautiful and awful and annoying and joyful it all really is. I am on the cusp of a whole new phase of life with my darlings, and I don't want to forget a moment of it. I want to remember the smells, the sounds, the glances, and the little touches.
I want to remember it all.
I'm going to get back. Though the frequency will likely be inconsistent at best, I refuse to give up the ghost just yet.
I have faith in you, little blog.
Hang in there.
I feel as though you are on life support, and I can't quite bring myself to pull the plug. You are quietly dying, neglected in your corner of my busy life. I love you and think of our great times together, and wish to be back in that place again. The place where I came to you and wrote often. Poured out my feelings and documented the everyday wonderfulness of our lives.
Yet I wonder lately if it would be easier without you weighing on the back of my mind, nudging me to pay attention to you, guilting the part of me that wants to see you thriving and well again.
Sigh.
What to do?
I feel as though most of the blogs I started with are gone. The fabulous circle of internet friends who made this world so fun has dwindled to the remaining few who bravely keep on posting. I want to be one of you. Really, I do. I just lack the motivation and the mojo. I feel as though I am out of ideas. That I have written on every topic humanly possible, and then some.
But then? Something will happen and a little drawer in my mind opens up and files away an idea. I think to myself, Yes! I could write a post about this. And then the phone rings, or the emails come in, and all of a sudden a month has passed without a post.
I hate that.
I miss the writing most of all. The cathartic clearing of my head. The joy of sitting down, fingers to keyboard, ideas giving way to words. The trembling fear of pushing publish on a heartfelt or emotional post, that ultimately led to peace and serenity in my soul. The giggling and secret joy, as I got my own jokes, and found myself far more humorous than anyone else ever could.
I need that. I need this.
I need a journaling outlet. I need a way to look back and remember how fantastic this life of mine is. It's going by at an ever increasing pace and I know I'll regret not jotting it down. Not remembering just how beautiful and awful and annoying and joyful it all really is. I am on the cusp of a whole new phase of life with my darlings, and I don't want to forget a moment of it. I want to remember the smells, the sounds, the glances, and the little touches.
I want to remember it all.
I'm going to get back. Though the frequency will likely be inconsistent at best, I refuse to give up the ghost just yet.
I have faith in you, little blog.
Hang in there.
