Blogging every day have been difficult for me though not for the reason you might think.
It isn't finding the time to write each day. I have plenty of time to write. It is instead what to write about that is the issue.
I have kept a journal since I was about nine years old. Writing is a lifelong habit. It is where I turn to when I have things to celebrate, things to ponder and things to grieve.
Writing is my go to tool for processing.
And right now I am in the midst of processing something so huge and so terribly painful that when I sit to write all of the words that pore out of me are related to this event.
Strange as it may sound the election brought me some relief. There was a communal pain greater than my own that took my mind off my personal grieving. But Saturday it started to creep back in. Yesterday the knot of sadness was back in my chest.
Last night I went to bed at 9:30. My body and my heart exhausted from the week. I slept for nine hours. Today, I'm going to turn to another old standby coping mechanism, I'm going to keep busy.
I'm also going to move, eat, pause to breathe...hydrate, rest, create...I'm going to try to move forward and heal.
And remind myself that nothing is static, all things pass...
This is beautiful. And I want to know more.
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