Wednesday, 2 January 2013

Making It Good

Yesterday I was trying to do some annual reflection, and I could not for the life of me remember what my New Year's resolutions had been for 2012. There were no documents or spreadsheets (yes, I'm one of those) anywhere on my computer, no lists in either of my journals, so in a last-ditch effort I came looking to see if I had posted them on my blog.

And that was when I realized that I only wrote one post last year. One! Just one. Oh dear.

On the bright side: it won't be hard to beat that.

There are a lot of reasons I stopped blogging. I blame part of it on social media; a lot of the more inane rambling that used to go here now ends up on twitter or tumblr or youtube instead. That may not be a bad thing. Part of me felt some pressure to save my blog for "important" or "meaningful" things and that made it a lot harder to just write. I was busy (but who isn't). I withdrew into my own head too much and didn't want to come back out. I didn't do anything worth writing about. It doesn't matter. I didn't write here, for whatever reason, and it was fine. But goodness me, I think I miss it.

Last year wasn't bad. It just wasn't good, either. One of the past versions of myself would have called it "lameboats." The current version just sighs and hangs the new calendar with joy. This one? This one's going to be good. I'm going to make it good.

And who knows. I might even tell you about it.

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Lost Voices

Last week I found myself sitting at my desk, banging my forehead against my knees, trying desperately to reword something to sound like something I would actually write. I had lost my voice, so to speak. My writing voice. Not my academic voice, not my job application voice, not my facebook message voice. My blogging voice. My opinion voice. My personal voice. It had been so long since I'd used it, I forgot what it even sounded like.

That was it. That was when I knew it was finally time to force myself back here.

I tried, at first. I really did. I have drafts from the fall. Some are just a few sentences; others made it to a paragraph or two. One is just three pictures of food I had made. Somehow I didn't have the time, or the energy, or the inspiration, or the will, or something, to finish any of them. And then the drafts peter out and there is nothing nothing nothing. Not since November.

A lot of things happened. Law school was busy and stressful. Making new friends was more difficult than I had hoped. My relationship with the internet changed. Mostly, though, I just withdrew. I became a hermit and drew back into myself and spent far too much time inside my own head with no company but my own thoughts. I had neither anything to say nor the desire to say anything.

I did miss writing. I did regret not posting here for so long. "Write a blog post" has been floating from one to do list to another for the past month and a half, but I didn't even know where to start, so I just kept putting it off and putting it off and putting it off. That night last week finally gave me the kick I needed to get back on the horse (Mixing metaphors... I'm a little rusty, cut me some slack).

I'm still not sure I have anything much to say. But I do like the idea of writing again. That's a start.

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

New Things

I like this house.  I like that when I come inside I get to go upstairs instead of down.  I like the enormous windows in my room.  I like the way the late afternoon sun shines through them and gives me a couple hours of cheery warmth and light during peak homework time.  I like the cast iron radiators that remind me of the house we lived in for a couple months when I was four.  I like the piano in the dining room.  I like the backyard and the little deck and the clothesline and my birdfeeder.  I'm even learning to like the peculiar music of the squeaky creaky staircase.

I like this neighbourhood.  I like the cats who sunbathe on our deck.  I like how many people in the area have dogs.  I like the sound of my neighbour's kids playing outside most afternoons.  I like the delicious aroma that drifts over from the Ben's bakery down the street.  I like hearing all the different church bells ring on Sunday mornings, creating the comforting small town feel of home.

I like this song.
I like the way it twines itself around my brain.  I like the way I find myself drumming my fingers to the melody.  I like the way those haunting lyrics show up in my thoughts when I'm not expecting them.

Saturday, 17 September 2011

Change of season

Three nights ago I awoke, sweating, the oppressive humidity clinging to me even after I had thrown off the blankets.  I staggered, half-asleep, to crack open the window, the cool air recalling distant days of dragging blankets off my bed to make a soft nest where I could lie in front of the fan, gaining enough reprieve from the heat to drift back to sleep.  It was the heat of summer, of childhood.

The following night I fell asleep to the sound of rain, falling gently but steadily, washing everything away - the humidity, the stress, the loneliness - cleaning the palette for a fresh start.  I awoke next morning to the bluster of the winds of change as they blew a new world in through my windows.

This morning I awoke shivering, clutching the blankets closer and seeking warmth in the forgetfulness of sleep.  I was forced to give in, closing the windows again, and pulling on a fall sweater to run some morning errands.  Living my grown-up life in my grown-up clothes, I thought with a sigh of the childhood heat, regretting, as always, the reality of autumn.

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Phantom Summer

OH.  Oh hey.  Hi!  Erm.  How do I write one of these, again?  Hmm.  Words.  Okay.  Here goes.

I'm not sure exactly what happened to this summer.  I'm still not entirely convinced, despite the insistence of every calendar I've looked at, that this summer actually happened.  I really haven't done enough this summer for it to be almost over already (Note to self: never move back into my parents' basement again.  Bad plans).

Fortunately, I lucked into a summer job that only lasted fourteen weeks, meaning that I'm completely free to do as I please for the rest of the summer.  I am pretty determined not to let it go to waste.  To fill the spaces between  a camping trip, jumping out of an airplane, and a hopefully a few beaches days if the rain ever lets up, I'm going to attempt to spit out enough words for Camp NaNoWriMo, finally finish that sweater I've been knitting for the past three years, and do an awful lot of running.

And yet I still want more things to fill my time with.  This just isn't cutting it.