It’s been an age. So long since I wrote anything here.
(Even now, my brain is telling me to click away, not to post this, not to bore everyone. But here we go, pushing on)
The words haven’t been coming. The flow has been blocked. They’re there, in my mind, but they don’t want to get out onto the page.
The preventative song is the same. Not good enough. You’ve done your bit. That was all you could do. You’ve done.
You should stop.
(Feel free to read between the lines)
Every day is another step, though. Small things accomplished. Every piece of happiness held on to and cheered.
I can’t face friends one day; the next, I share laughter and hopeful thoughts with a stranger.
I see shock on the face of a person assigned to help me. But not disgust – sympathy. The shame shrinks before his gentle smile.
Being held, in person or virtually. Reaching out myself, wanting to help others. Tears for sick friends, frustration that I can’t do more – but being there.
Gladness in plans that we’re finally able to make, after a year of limbo.
We live in strange times. I’m not sure where the winding path is leading. I’m trying to listen to the subtle guidance – the ringing strike of truth held in random phrases, words on a page, jokes and shared thoughts.
It feels as if I’m living moment to moment right now. And perhaps… that might be ok.
Because I’m wanting more. And the ideas may be starting to bud a little once again. the truths start to fall from my lips and fingertips.
Love and hope to you all, patient friends. The mantra of last year still: Stay Safe.
The Catbox 