I'd like to say that I was off doing too many fabulous things to sit down and blog about, but that wouldn't really be the truth. (Though, I *have* done some pretty incredible things lately, they just weren't really the kinds of things to keep me away from blogging). Part of me justified my silence by saying that I needed some more quiet in my life, time to be present to my world off-line rather than blather about my goings on here in this space. But that would just be a cop out; in fact, I consume WAY more internet per day than I would care to admit. That part is easy.
I think closer to the truth is the fact that I feel like I have lost my voice. I have been trying to revive this space for a while now, but can never seem to find a way into a story. A feeling not too different from what happens to all of us, perhaps with a friend,or a loved one. You know, the one you are scared to call after something awkward happened one day, even when you know you should. In the battle between cowardice and picking up the phone, cowardice wins. As each day passes, you fight this battle "should I call?" but the more time you feed cowardice the stronger it grows. "Nah, its too hard." Before you know it, years have gone by, and shit...it feels just too darn awkward to pick up the phone now. How would I even begin?
How do I begin?
I have asked myself this question SO MANY TIMES. How do I begin? What the hell should I blog about that will be honest and not flippant in the least (after being noticeably absent for years now). I tried to start a gratitude project, but that kind of flopped. I tried to write some stories, but they just seemed out of place. Then I thought maybe I needed something new, a blank slate, a fresh palate. I tried to break up with my blog in a post I never published:
This space...this space? Sigh. I am sure you have noticed (you, being all 5 of you who read my blog) that things have dropped off in the past few years. This blog has been limping along for a while.It is funny to think how much time I have spent agonizing over whether to leave this space or not. There are so many stories and photos stored here that remind me of a very real and raw period of my life, one that no longer exists for me yet has woven the fabric of who I am now. I am not so sure moving on is the answer; perhaps I just needed an entry point back in.
And yes, I'm having a David Byrne moment here, guys. This is not my
beautiful househorrible blog. It feels weird to leave it just hanging in the air; I mean, for a while I think I had a good thing going. But DAMN! One day you just wake up and realize that the thing just doesn't fit anymore and no measure of tweaking or pulling or prodding is going to change that fact. I think its time to move on from this.
I started Lifewaza almost 5 years ago, just as I was about to plunge over the precipice of a new life. Lifewaza, in a way, was the rope that tied me safely back to the firm ground of my home, my family, so that I couldn't fall to fast or too far. I wanted people back home to know what I was doing and how I was feeling and understand that even though I was leaving them that I wasn't really gone...just more complicated to talk to on the phone at 8 in the morning. I wanted them to remain a part of my life.
Sometimes the ropes we tie for ourselves, though, aren't strong enough.
These past five years I have struggled to navigate two completely new homes and cultures, a new language, a serious identity crisis, a long distance relationship that was on (and off and on and off and now on and fabulous), the processing of a previous relationship, heartbreak, soul-crushing, more identity crisis, living illegally in Canada, separation anxiety, a TON of moves, at least four new jobs, and much, much more (did I mention identity crisis?). These past five years have been like a sucker punch roller coaster crash landing, being birthed into a whole new life (where I was both the laboring mother AND the disoriented child) and it was one of the most difficult and certainly the most liberating thing I have ever done. Full stop. And, at times, I felt the need to leave this space and crawl into my own hole of privateness and dispair and could just never find my way back in to my poor, neglected little blog.
So this is me, telling you I am having trouble finding my way back in, as a way back in. How is that for meta?