I’ve poked and prodded and updated my blog theme in hopes of being inspired to write. Not for lack of things to say…but for the focus to sit and write. I peaked at my Pinterest feed and found a nifty post on things your blog needs. It was great, but aimed more at “bloggers”. I realized I missed the old community that I used to find in my google feed reader. Gosh, I haven’t looked at that in years. I miss the way we used to just share and connect, heart to heart. Now it’s all about having the right niche and themes and settings and audience and monetizing, and I’m just over here, doing the same thing I always have…I think…writing what’s on my heart. Part memoir-part rambling-part journal-part did I share too much like that was my diary-and part that was too vague and artistic. Words, free form poetry. Run on sentences are my jam. (Sorry.) I don’t blog for you. I blog to process, to share, to see the words form outside of my head, to piece things together, to be real, to share what I am passionate about and can’t stop thinking, breathing, or speaking about.
[for example: abolitionist, identity, trust, goodness, love, contentment, holy yoga, my church, my friends, my city]
And there’s this part of me that sees the changes…the MASSIVE changes in my life and my heart, in who I am…and I want to scrap the whole thing (the blog, that is) and start over. But there is this other part of me that knows the value of being able to look back and see how far I have come. The value of continuity…somehow…perhaps. Yet I long for a blank canvas, for the room to breathe and cover that new canvas. For the process of creating, thinking, wondering.
I just returned back from a trip to a place that I used to live. And it was strange being back. I was nervous and apprehensive because I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, being back in a place I used to call home. And it was wonderful to see faces and loved ones and hugs and baby snuggles and coffee/lunch/bbq dates and just sit and talk and talk and heart to heart and reconnect. It was a whirlwind of a trip. I tried to take it all in as best as I could. But I came back exhausted from traveling and restless. And for two weeks I have attempted to identify the restlessness. It’s internal, very internal. I don’t know what to make of it, so I have sought peace, calm, focus, shalom. I found some of this in Isaiah 26:3 which says:
You will keep in perfect peace
all who trust in you,
all whose thoughts are fixed on you!
I looked up the hebrew words for perfect and peace and found them to be the same word. Shalom, shalom. Peace, peace. Double Peace. It has been my focus and calm in the midst of this restlessness. Even the thought that I ought to sit down and just write brought a sense of calm.
Even right now as I right, the slowing, even as my fingers dance on the keyboard is calming. It’s strange to think how long it’s been since I have done this…and on a regular basis. I am brainstorming some ideas of how to get myself to write. Because I need it. So hello June, and hello blank canvas.