Thursday, April 11, 2019

Years have passed



It's been a few years since i've written in this format.  Partly related to a bit of a block.  I'm not sure if there is much of meaning to say.  And what I do have to say doesn't seem best suited to a medium such as this.  I have written a little on the ServiceSpace platform in the intervening time.  I've also done a fair bit of journaling.  But I think mostly it is related to life's pace.  I'm now the father to a wonderful baby boy, who is 18 months old :)  Though I won't be sharing much about him on this medium as his story is his own to share.

I think I do want to write again, but more from a perspective of helping me see me.  Others may of course read along the way, this is not meant as a journal :)  I think of times in my life, usually when I'm in the process of something - maybe driving, or exercising, or feeding my son - and i'll think of a topic that is meaningful to me.  And I'll think 'oh, i really want to write about this.  to process it through prose.'  and i think that's why i'm writing this now, and whatever comes out later.  less about polish, although i do have a lifetime of bullet point thinking to work through!

One of the topics that has been a guide for life in these last few years is gratitude.  Just how much there is to be grateful for, and paradoxically just how much there is to grieve.  To my body, they feel related in some way.  I don't mean this just in a macro sort of way, but in a 'my life' sort of way.  the list for what i'm grateful for in my life is long, and very micro.  while i had seen it before, i'm not sure i had felt it.  what it feels like to be in touch with the first conscious breath in the morning.  to see my parents for a video chat.  to touch my family.  to simply know that certain dear ones exist.  to hear a poem that i can't really understand, but something in my heart aches anyways.  it's not owed to me.  it can go at any time.  i'm not sure i'm really in touch with that.

And grief.  to be willing to feel it.  to tear up, to sob.  for whatever reason, whether the underlying driver is my separate self feeling hurt and small or my separate self slowly dissolving into a glorious whole.  i've been appreciating the opportunity to feel it consciously, to the extent i can metabolize it.  trauma, my own, my inheritance, our inheritance.  where i don't feel seen.  where i feel scared.  and where i feel lifted and looked around and wondered how i could have lived a whole life and missed this

All this to say i'm going to be writing a little more.  that's my intention at least.  and it'll be less coherent, or meaningful, or complete, or depolarizing.... that actually sounds really good to me :)

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