Putting the mug on the floor probably wasn't the best idea. My feet seem to have an incredible knack for being violently attracted to anything on the floor, be it mug, cup, glass or bowl. If it's full of anything that will spill all over the carpet the inevitable will usually happen. They don't seem to be so attracted to empty mugs though. Typical. But honestly, I'm too comfortable to move so it's a risk I'm going to take. Living life on the wild side over here.
You know, I always thought that the day I start liking coffee is the day that I would feel old. And now I do really like coffee and I sometimes I do feel old, it's not the bad kind of old I always thought it would be. It's the wiser kind of old. The best kind. Although sometimes my back hurts and there's not really anything good about that. Wise or not. But I have discovered the wonder of the back massage. The best.
The radio silence was unintentional. At least a week had passed before I realised that writing and hitting the publish button hadn't crossed my mind. Not even once. And since I started writing here all those years ago that hadn't happened until now. It was a new experience and I wasn't really sure how I felt about it at first. So when I did finally realise that I hadn't been writing, I just couldn't get the words out. It's difficult to find the right combination of words when trying to find that right combination had fallen to the bottom of the importance list. Sometimes I think it takes something completely unexpected to make taking that step back, that I really needed to take, possible. It's like I needed something to give me permission to stop for a while. I had slowly been ensnared in that trap of completely overlooking everything good and important and necessary. Instead I was throwing too much time, energy and attention into trying to fix things that were going completely tits up because I thought it would be the end of the world if they did. In reality those things were pretty insignificant and I'm happy to have been able to leave them be. They absolutely did go tits up, but I think they were supposed to. And I think I'm supposed to be okay with that. And I am. And it feels good.
The funny thing about blogging is being able to pick a month in the past and within a few clicks it's possible to relive that time all over again. It's rare that I take down posts, but oh goodness there are a couple that are now firmly relegated to the drafts section. They're not necessarily things I want to forget but I don't want to stumble upon them accidentally when I'm not expecting it. They need to be stored in a clearly labelled box as it were. It's kind of like the utensil drawer in our kitchen, I wouldn't rummage around in there willy nilly for fear of a knife in hand incident. Open with caution. I think it's okay to have things like that. And I think it's okay for them to be a secret just for me.
Mostly these past couple of weeks have foregrounded how incredibly lucky I am. Even though sometimes bad things happen. And sometimes I'm sad. And there will undoubtedly be periods of time in the future when other bad things will happen and I'll be sad again for a little while. But I'm so lucky to just be. To be here. To be alive. To see the sun rise. To see the sun set. To see the stars emerge from within the infinite inky blue sky that nightfall gives. To have someone who loves me even when I'm having a bad day. To have someone that I love even when he's having a bad day. All of those things and so much more deserve to be treasured. Even the bad times because they make the good times so much better. The things that we love need work. They won't ever work perfectly by themselves. The best things need work and effort and attention and time. It's part of what makes them magical. And we never know how long we have. Sometimes you can love something infinitely and it doesn't work out, for whatever reason. We can only treasure things for as long as they're with us, appreciate them and never ever forget them.
It's good to be here again. And although sometimes there might be weeks where I simply don't have anything to say and it'll be a little quiet, knowing this is here, knowing you're here gets me through. I hope you will still be here even when I inevitably don't pop up on your dashboard everyday anymore. I don't possess that same talent that many bloggers have for posting daily. I admire them enormously and I have no idea how they do it. When I tried I became someone who wasn't me. But I've found her again, she wasn't too far away. And things might be a little different around here going forward, but I think it's time I took a leaf out of nineteen-year-old-me's book. I think she was on the right path all along all those years ago, she just didn't have the self-belief to keep following it. It's time to stop choosing what is easy and have a little more faith in my voice. Things come. Things go. But we live. And we love. And we grow. And we learn.
'Where the windows are breathing in the light,
Where the rooms are a collection of our lives,
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place that I call my home'
Where the rooms are a collection of our lives,
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place that I call my home'
Thank you. For being you. For being here. For being with me.
And I'll see you soon. Unquestionably.
...And no kicking over of the coffee occurred. You know, I think today might just be my day!