I wish I had a great story or even a well-crafted excuse for why I haven’t blogged here since August 4.  I don’t.  There was no mental breakdown or exciting new project that stole my time and energy.  I did not run out of worthy material nor was I banned from oversharing by my children.  The best way to describe my sudden sabbatical is to point you to the scene in Forrest Gump when, after running for “3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours,” Forrest stops and turns to his disciples and says, “I’m pretty tired.  I think I’ll go home now.”  And with that, his running days were over.

By August of this year, I had been blogging for 6 years, 2 months, 3 weeks and not-going-to-bother-with hours.  And I was pretty tired.  When that first Sunday night came and went and I didn’t even try to squeeze something out of my head, the rest felt so good.  In fact, I enjoyed the break so very much that I gave myself permission to do the same thing the following Sunday, even having the conversation in my head about not explaining my absence either.  And so went the rest of August.  September came and I spent my Sunday nights strapping myself to the weekly catapult, packing myself and the boys, for the week ahead.  There seemed to be no time to write during the weekly preparation for launch.  So I just didn’t.

Frankly, I wasn’t sure anyone noticed.  And honestly, I didn’t know how to feel about it.  If no one cared that I wasn’t writing, WTH have I been doing for the last 6 years, 2 months…. yeah, you get the picture.  But at the same time, if no one cared, then I am free NOT to write.  That feels more than a little liberating.  Hmmm. I spent a few more weeks meditating on this reality.

And then gradually, people started to notice.  Or perhaps they had noticed before but it took a while to say anything.

Chase was the first to tell me that his lunch table was asking about why I wasn’t writing.  The fact that my blog was a topic of conversation at the freshman lunch table at my son’s high school could perhaps be the highest form of praise I will ever receive.  Of course, he went on to tell me that his friends thought that blogging was my actual job – so perhaps they were concerned for our livelihood.  But still, I was completely humbled.  Then, a very nice woman in the check out line at the grocery store asked me if I was the blogger at MoB.  She actually recognized me and it was very cool of her to say so.  She noticed that I hadn’t been writing as well.  And of course, my Mom would drop the occasional gentle probes.  Thank goodness. If Mom doesn’t miss me, might as well hang it up here and now.

The recognition was a nice ego boost, but it’s the itch that brings me back.  There is a great deal of “stuff” going on in the world – and not a day goes by that my writing muscle doesn’t snag itself on some passing news item, interaction, gut wrenching feeling, or wave of gratitude.  The words start lining up in their queue in my head, but then disintegrate as my attention is drawn away.  These fits and starts are happening with greater frequency, so I’m thinking its time to return to these pages and share these thoughts.

I’m sorry I left without any explanation.  Unlike Forrest, my writing days are far from over.  I may adjust the cadence of my posts – so that the best of my work comes through here.  But as I sit here on Sunday afternoon, typing away, it feels pretty darn good to be back.

I hope you have all been well.  We’ll talk soon.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • email
  • Facebook
  • Twitter