Category Archives: Self-Reflection

Arts and Crafts, Empty Nesting, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Self Help, Self-Reflection, Time Management

Painting Rocks

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Are you a die-hard list maker like me?

If so, you probably find list-making to be a useful self-help tool. A way to keep things organized, in black and white, to check off as you go. To keep you on track and focused. It’s a good way to manage stress.

Sometimes I make a one day “to-do” list, and sometimes it’s a week long “to-do” list. If it’s an especially busy weekend coming up, I’ll create a “to- do list” for that too.

One interesting thing I’ve realized, however, is that often, at the end of the day, I’ve checked off everything on my “to-do” list except for the “non-essential” tasks. The kind of tasks that are just for me. They’re personal. They don’t benefit anyone but me. The fun stuff.

I put these tasks on my lists thinking that will “make” me do them. But I’ve learned that it doesn’t work that way. I often carry the “just for me” tasks into the next day. Then the next and the next. And sometimes I get to a point where I just stop putting those things on my lists altogether.

One recent example of this is painting rocks. I published a post a while back where I mentioned painting rocks as vegetables to be placed in our gardens. I ordered a set of acrylic paints months ago, with the notion that my grandson and I would use them together when I was watching him in the afternoons. Then, before I knew it, my daughter found a babysitter who lives much closer to her, and he no longer needed to come to my house after his day program/school.

I loved the idea of playing with these paints. Not that I’m some kind of talented artist. I’m not. But, now that I’m older and wiser I don’t care that I’m not talented. It’s totally beside the point. Painting original things is fun. It’s meditative. My mom was a great (non-professional) artist. She painted rocks herself back in the ’70s. I remember one in particular, which was a bowl of fruit. It was intricate and colorful and I sure wish I had come across it after she passed so I could have it as a memento.

Several weeks ago, after having “paint rocks” on my to-do lists since May, I went outside and picked a few decent-sized, flat-ish rocks. They sat in my basement, unadorned, until two weeks ago. The acrylic paint set was housed in my dining room cupboard, unopened.

That was the day I just decided I was going to paint those damn rocks. It was time to check it off my “to-do” list to ensure I would not abandon the idea of doing it altogether.

So I put up the plastic folding table which I, long ago, designated for arts and crafts with my grandson. I grabbed those three rocks, opened up the paints (oh so many pretty colors), got out those cheap plastic paint brushes the kid and I would use for water color pictures and simply painted them.

It felt good. Like I was giving myself a hug. I let my mind drift as I squeezed droplets of colors on a paper plate. I didn’t have any particular vision of what I wanted these rocks to look like. I just took the colors that pleased me the most and went with the flow.

I’ve got other items on my revolving “to-do” list that I infrequently get to. Those things are often self-care-related, like giving myself a pedicure. Or reading a book in the afternoon. Or messaging someone that I’d like to get to know better.

You’d think that being an unemployed empty-nester, I’d be engaging in all sorts of personally fulfilling activities. Maybe I just need to manage my time better. Get up earlier. Cut out the t.v. watching at night. Perhaps.

For now, though, I think for just one day-and soon-I will start my day by doing one of these more fun, self-serving, activities and push any of those “essential” tasks to later in the day, or even…the next day.

Blogging, Curiosity, Grandparenting, Humor, Self-Reflection, Time Management, Uncategorized

Wrapping Things Up and Circling Back

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Do you remember the series on this blog entitled “I Have Questions” that I started about six blog posts ago?

Well, I never officially wrapped it up. I took some detours for a bit and lost the plot.

Perhaps I’m taking myself too seriously, but closing out this series today will bring me some peace of mind. I’m hoping that some of what I’m about to spew resonates with you.

But first, I need to circle back. I want you to know that the inspiration for the “I Have Questions” series was in the form of my 9-year-old grandson. If you’ve been following my blog for a bit, you’ll recall that there was a 4 month period of time during which my daughter and grandson lived with us in Colorado. A true highlight of this time was when my grandson would, out of the blue, look at me with his big brown eyes and pretty eyelashes and say “Grandma, I have a question”.

I captured some of those “I have a question” stories in a draft folder, intending to share them on this blog. Now seems like the right time to share them.

Once, I was in the shower as he was supposed to be getting ready for school. I heard a knock on the door. I ask “Who’s there?” (knowing it’s him). No response. A couple of minutes later, another knock. He says, opening the door, “I have a question”. I ask what it is. “Is it ok if I go to the doctor before school today?” he asks. I ask him why he needs to go to the doctor. He says it’s because he has a “hole in his cheek”. I ask how he got a hole in his cheek. He says it’s because he used Grandpa’s razor on it and cut it. I said “Wow, you must be bleeding like crazy”. I then stick my wet head out of the shower to find him sitting on the toilet with his hand covering his cheek. He tells me he can’t remove his hand because “blood will gush out”. I told him to get out of the bathroom and get to school. He complied.

Don’t worry, folks, he did not have a hole in his cheek. Just a minuscule knick. This kid has a flair for the dramatic.

Another one: “I have a question. What comes before Tuesday?” Me: “Monday”. Him: “Hmm”. I have no idea what that was about.

A more recent one: “I have a question. What’s a virgin?” (this was in response to him seeing an ad for “Hocus Pocus 2” after having seen the original). As I hemmed and hawed about how to respond, Hubs piped up with “It’s what they call someone who’s never done something before”.

Genius!

Now back to finishing what I started.

If I had to tell you one thing about myself that I dislike, it’d be that I start projects that I don’t finish. And I’m feeling sick and tired of it.

There are multiple projects I have started, particularly in the last year or two, which remain unfinished. I’m getting to work behind the scenes on finishing at least some of them. Some are arts and crafts related. Some are home improvement-related, and others are creative writing-related.

I started this series without thinking it through, and after a couple of posts I started feeling like I pigeon-holed myself. It was too broad. I neglected to set any parameters whatsoever when I came up with the idea of starting this series. I think it’s linked to the fact that I have few limits on what questions I want to ask: of myself, others, or the universe.

But, hey, I’ve always viewed my blogging endeavor as an experiment. Trying a series was part of this experiment. I’m very much not wording this right, but you (bloggers) know how there’s an option for topics on the right-hand side of your “blog post in progress”, which includes the word “uncategorized”? I’m caught between feeling like I should embrace that and questioning if it’s serving me.

Serious question for other personal bloggers reading this: Can you relate to the “uncategorized” label? If so, how?

Ok, so clearly I do still have questions.

Just not a series about them any longer.

The song in my head as I wrap up this blog post:

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

***Featured image courtesy of https://quotefancy.com/quote/1644669/Laura-Day-Endings-are-beginnings-if-we-allow-them-to-be

Ambition, Anxiety, Blogging, Curiosity, Fear, Irony, Overthinking, Self-Reflection, SocialAnxiety

This Time I Have a Question For You

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Why do you blog?

Let me explain where this question comes from.

My blogging anxiety these days is hitting an all-time high. I started a series, here, the 4th installment of what you are reading now, entitled “I Have Questions”. I’m terrible at promoting myself but I know it’s part of the deal if I want to grow my following and make something more of this blogging thing. In that spirit, here’s the first, second, and third post in my series.

I fear I may have inadvertently set myself up for failure by starting this series. It came from a good and curious place, but I didn’t think it through. Questions? We all have questions, right? What those questions are can’t be forced, which is what I’ve been struggling with. Which I think is ridiculous.

I published a post in March of 2021, when I was working still. It was about why I blog. And I missed some things in that post. I didn’t go deep enough.

It’s still true that I blog for the connections I make and the things I learn along the way in the blogosphere. And yes, I still blog because the feedback I often get is validating and gives me warm fuzzies.

I now have more followers than I did then so it seemed right to me to ponder the question again, with the hope that you will all join in. Posing this question now also gives me an opportunity to tell you all, from my heart, why I have kept this up.

The primary reason I blog, or more specifically, write, is because it’s much more comfortable for me to find the words and write them out than it is for me to find the words and use my voice to speak them out loud. Especially when I have a lot to say, which you all know I do.

When I was younger and had an argument with someone, often I’d be so upset that all I could do was cry. I couldn’t form the words or turn off the tears easily. So I would grab a notebook and write it all out. Sometimes I’d craft it into a letter that I’d give to the person who had upset me so. Often the act of writing it down had to be enough because I believed sharing it with them would not be welcome or understood.

While I love being around people and having meaningful conversations, it gives me a lot of anxiety. I feel embarrassed if others eyes are on me, which results in me tripping over or mispronouncing words, or I freeze mid-sentence and lose whatever train of thought I was riding on. Writing is easier. No one is looking at me while I do it, waiting for me to get to the damn point already.

I recognize the irony here, however. The irony of being so self-conscious when conversing with others that I don’t show up as well as I want to; yet here I am, telling so much of my business on the internet where literally anyone can see it. And judge me.

Maybe I’m crazy. Probably. Because I’m sticking with the blogging thing, including my “I Have Questions” series.

It still feels right to me.

So, again, I ask: why do you blog?

Friendships, Humor, Life, marriage, Self-Reflection, Time Management

Chronically Tardy

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Who’s chronically late out there?

I’m pokey. I take forever to get things done. To get my ass in gear.

I know I am not the only one.

My chronic tardiness annoys the hell out of people, especially the Hubs, who is very punctual.

Bless his heart, he’s put up with this for over 33 years.

Virtually anyone who knows me IRL will say that having a relationship with me, the kind where you go places in public together, requires patience.

I’ve become more self-aware in the last year, however, which is why I aim to be purposefully patient when I’m interacting with others. Whether it’s my immediate family, the neighbor I just met in my driveway, or my favorite female friends, I try to pay it back.

Yet, my frequent tardiness causes unnecessary stress. I don’t like feeling like I’m disappointing people. But know this: I’m continually running late not because I don’t value your presence and don’t have a feeling of adrenaline running through me in anticipation of whatever we’re doing together.

I like to think those who know me best sense this vibe coming out of me every which way in these moments and choose to love me anyway.

I believe my chronic tardiness is how I’m wired.

Bear with me here.

I was born late. About 6 or 7 years late, I’d say, based on what my Mom told me often when she was still alive.

I was the baby my parents hoped and tried for, after my sister was born. I just took my sweet time getting here. I was born just a bit over 8 years after her.

It stands to reason that my late arrival into this world has at least something to do with my chronic lateness. It’s a theory anyway. Not an excuse, mind you, but an explanation.

I kid you not: I recently perused my old high school yearbook. On one page, there was what can only be referred to as a rambling mess of inside jokes written by, I imagine, a small group of nerdy yearbook kids. At the end of this “piece” is written “and Rhonda K is still eating lunch”.

That, of course, was me they were referring to.

I read an article on NPR earlier this year about chronic lateness. I found it really interesting, and you may as well. Click here for the link.

According to the article, time is a social construct. How cultures view time varies, though essentially one’s view is either “event” based or “clock” based. I clearly fall more into the “event based” camp. If I tell you I’m going to meet up with you today at 11 a.m., I will meet up with you. I’m never one of those “no show” people. Yet, perhaps largely because I am an American living in the U.S., I understand and appreciate those in the “clock based” crowd.

Would you consider yourself “clock” based or “event” based when it comes to time? And what do you make of it?

While you consider those questions, I hope you take the time to enjoy this “timely” cover of a fantastic pop song by Chicago, “Does Anybody Really Know What Time it Is?”

***Header image courtesy of https://quotesgram.com/late-funny-quotes/

Ambition, Arts and Crafts, Changes, Clarity, Education, Employment, Grandparenting, Lifestyle, Self-Reflection, Work, Writing

Liberal Arts Grandma ISO Meaningful Work

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The level of clarity I have about life, mine of course, but also general life, if you know what I mean, has increased significantly in the last year.

This is on account of all the changes. The cross country move, the new lifestyle and routine, our daughter and grandson overcoming so much and blossoming in their new environment.

I’m feeling settled in here now. At a point of reflection, just gobsmacked over the changes that had to occur and the choices that had to be made to get me and (most of) my beloved crew here, living 15 minutes from each other in this 4 season wonderland that is Minnesconsin.

Not that life is perfect; I’m just marinating in this feeling of being “settled”.

However, I know I can’t marinate indefinitely. Nor do I want to.

Paid employment is beckoning me at the moment. I’m itching to get back at it. But I’m still in charge of the now 9 year old at least a few afternoons per week, and I’m seeing that this might continue through the school year.

So, paid employment for me is kind of on the back burner for now.

That’s ok however, because I have yet to figure out what it is exactly I want to or can do and be paid for it. This the one big thing I don’t yet have clarity on.

Example: I opted for a free upgrade recently on LinkedIn. I thought it would be helpful for me to engage more on that site. However, when I went to update my profile, I was prompted to describe the kind of job I am looking for.

I blanked. I literally didn’t realize until that moment that I don’t know exactly what kind of job I want. So, I stopped right there and shortly after canceled my upgrade to prevent myself from being charged a monthly fee.

I might go back to it, upgrade it again. Once I figure out what kind of job I’m looking for, that is.

In my fantasy life, the job of my dreams (you know, the one that allows me to work part time writing and supporting others in various ways to move forward and achieve their hearts desire) just shows up. It appears out of thin air and I gratefully latch onto it and thank my lucky stars.

But that is not how it works. Ever.

Not that I’m not a believer in manifestation, but I know I’ve got to put some work into it. Take some action.

While I ponder paid employment, I’m hell bent on being more active. Physically, mentally, and intellectually. What’s cool about this for me is that I’ve got a sidekick. My grandson needs to be engaged in learning so he can move forward and so do I.

That means my “job” right now is to learn and grow with him. I refuse to put on a teacher hat when he’s here because it’s important to me that my role as his Grandma remains intact for him.

That compels me to think outside the box. To figure out how to engage him without saying words like “learn” or “teach” in his presence. He balks when those words are uttered. So I have to be a little sneaky about it, kind of like those parents who whirl veggies in a blender and put it in the muffins they’re baking for the kids.

I like the notion of being the “liberal arts” Grandma. She who engages her grandchild’s artistic and creative tendencies in a way that sheds new light into his brain and heart.

Image courtesy of https://www.pinterest.com/pin/17170042308639399/

One thing I did recently with him is to ask him to teach me how to do oragami, something I know he’s good at and likes to do. As a kid with ADHD, he needs to keep his hands busy pretty much all the time. He was very receptive to it and seemed to appreciate my suggestion that one of the pieces of oragami I created could be turned into a piece of art, like a picture frame.

So, my new theory is that both he and I can learn together via arts and crafts projects. That can be my contribution to his education.

Pinterest, here I come!

Anxiety, Blogging, Emotions, Hope, Life, Mental Health, Moods, Self-Reflection, Time

On Being a WIP and Melancholy

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You know, sometimes I feel like I could lose my mind. There’s just so much going on in this head of mine. I can sense the tears but they rarely come out.

Whew.

I don’t think I’m depressed per se. I’m just mixed up. Feeling like I’m wandering and unable to sort out where I’m going. Very much like I’m caught up in the space I’m in, yet certain that there’s something new on the horizon waiting for me to jump into it.

I think there’s something to a new concept I read about this morning online: purpose anxiety. Or maybe it’s a diagnosis. I think I have it. I think this “gap year” I’m in is similar to the other one that I had in that I get to a point where I’ve got too much time on my hands. Yet I feel like I’m not accomplishing anything of value. Like I ought to be using my time more wisely.

Meloncholy resonates with me today. I googled the word to gain a better understanding of it’s meaning and came upon this definition by Emily Brady at the University of Michigan (link here)”melancholy is something we desire from time to time, for it provides an opportunity for indulgent self-reflection. We enjoy this time out for reflection, but the pleasure is also connected to recollecting that which we long for, which this reflective element can be even exhilirating or uplifting.”

It’s also full on winter here in Minnesconsin, which is something I haven’t experienced in the last 7 years. There’s snow everywhere you look and it’s so cold out there. It pushes me to hibernate.

Some of the parts about hibernating I actually like. Such as watching t.v. on my couch, especially if Radar chooses to be my cuddle buddy. Reading; though most of the reading I do these days is other people’s blog posts or NPR. I’ve been re-reading “Atlas of the Heart”, by Brene Brown, which I need to get back to as it’s been a few days. It’s such an important book to me. One I treasure. One of the few books I’ve read that has actually altered my perspective and, I think, improved the way I relate to others. It’s a keeper.

Yes, I recently published a blog post in which I listed all of the things I do just for fun. That feels a little ironic to me as I pour myself out here and now. Yet I stand by that post. I am of the mind that having fun, along with having something to look forward to, is very underrated in American culture.

That said, and I say this with the intention of pushing myself forward, I’m going to take the time to lay out some things I can do, actions I can take to just get on with it. To push through this little slump I’m in. I know it’s temporary.

I’m a WIP (Work in Progress), you’re a WIP, we’re all WIPs, right?

Progress, not perfection.

***Header image courtesy of https://lifeism.co/aesthetic-quotes-that-will-center-you-for-the-day

Christmas, Cooking, Death, Google Playlists, Joy, Love, Music, Self-Reflection

Music, In-Laws, and a Christmas Regret

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The first bluetooth speaker I had was a Christmas present from Hubs’ brother and his wife. I loved it so much.

It was light and had a handle to allow me to easily carry it with me and take to work, to sit outside, or to a party, where I could listen to and share with others the playlists I made via Google. Either I didn’t realize that my brother in law and his wife knew how obsessed I was with music or it was just a lucky guess on their part.

I was so grateful for this present and enjoyed it so much; but for no good reason, I don’t believe I specifically reached out to either of them to say thank you. At the time, I believed Hubs thanked them for all of the presents that Christmas.

My brother in law died suddenly from a heart attack before turning 60, four years ago. It bothers me that I never expressed my appreciation of this gift to him.

Fast forward to Christmas 2022. Hubs only living sibling, my fabulous sister in law, is so thoughtful and generous when it comes to the Christmas presents she gets for all of us each year. This year, one of the presents she spoiled me with was a Google nest. She knows just how much I adore listening to music. She has a great appreciation for it herself. What a fabulous present!

I’m listening to Pink (side note: the three of us-me, Hubs, and SIL, have tickets to see Pink in concert in August 2023) as I write this, which is streaming on the nest. Hubs set this speaker up in the most perfect space; on top of my buffet in the kitchen, next to the Keurig. Having music on in my kitchen is just heaven to me. As I’m cooking something up, I fall into such a pleasurable state of mind while I’m listening to whatever tunes I choose.

One of the best advantages of our move to Minnesconsin is that I get to spend time on the regular with my SIL. I get to tell her again and again how much I love the Google nest she got me this Christmas.

I’ve kind of gotten away from sharing music that inspires me on these blog posts. I’m going to start to rectify that with this incredible song and dance by Pink. The lyrics resonate for me and the athleticism displayed here is fantastic.

2021, Blogging, Clarity, Creative Writing, Emotions, Life, Rage, Self-Reflection, Time, Work, Work Life Balance

About 2021

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I’m eager for 2022.

I feel all of this, written by Rachel Hackenberg for the United Church of Christ’s daily devotional on 12/28/21:

“If you are eager to throw your 2021 calendar in the trash, and you have all of your incense and candles and rituals prepared to sweep out 2021 and bless 2022, remember that even when the year is new: there is still rage and death and dreadful absence that haunts our collective spirit and needs to be healed. 

Make room for the rage. 

Welcome it like a weary traveler who can’t find a room in the inn. 

Give it space where it can cry and groan. 

Light a candle if it labors through the night. 

Do not be quick to console it, only keep it company to be sure it doesn’t harm others. 

Amplify its voice. 

Let it be messy and imperfect”

I appreciate this devotional because 2021 threw me for a loop (especially that last month or so). The events in my personal orbit as well as events in this country and world in 2021 have left me feeling older, feistier, and tired.

I don’t know of a better way of putting it, but I feel messy. I need time to process it all because of the emotional whiplash. I need time to recuperate.

There were happy moments for me, however. Photographic evidence:

My “Elfie Selfie” at my employers “Santa Shop” this year.
Rabbie and I at Thanksgiving
Me with my favorite 7 year old in Wisconsin on Halloween weekend
The Hubs and I in our finest at my employer’s “Adult Prom” fundraising gala

A truly inspiring and prolific blogger who I follow, Jenny, of Jenny’s Lark, asked a question on her blog recently. I have been pondering it ever since.

Here is my paraphrased version of it: if there is ONE lesson you learned in 2021 that you can keep for yourself, while all of the other lessons disappear into thin air, what would it be?

A tough, yet interesting question to consider, don’t you think?

I’m going to make a list of the lessons I’ve learned in 2021 right now. I will edit this down to just one however.

  • I realized in 2021 that my life was out of balance: too much working in all it’s forms and not enough writing and publishing.

And this is exactly why, for me, 2022 is going to be all about one word.

BALANCE

Here’s the song of the year for me. I’m pretty sure you all will appreciate it, going into the new year.

Aging, Changes, Dreams, Empty Nesting, Happiness, Imagination, Lifestyle, Self-Reflection, Travel

Defining The “Good” Life

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Blogger Troy Headrick’s recent query, asking others to define what the “good” life is, really got me thinking.

Instead of responding in the comments section of his post, I’ve decided to write about it here on my blog.

If asked this question while I was growing up in middle class northern Minnesota in the 70’s and 80’s, my answer would have been something like this: the “good” life means you have oodles of money at your disposal. It means others envy you, as you sip champagne on your yacht with a perfectly coiffed poodle on your lap. The “good” life means you have connections to powerful people and you live in a luxurious home. Actually, if you’re living the “good” life you have several luxurious homes in multiple locales. You enjoy a globe-trotting existence with not a care in the world. You are unencumbered by any responsibilities.

In other words, the good life was unattainable. A mere fantasy. And, truth be told, pretty damn shallow.

Later in my life, probably somewhere in my 30’s, my definition of the “good” life became sharper, more defined, more personal. I witnessed my parents, after many years of hard work, building a business together even, retire. They were young-ish at the time. Bonnie would have been right about 60, Babe 67-ish. They had the good fortune of living as middle aged adults during a time where the economy was prosperous. They were healthy and possessed strong work ethics and managed their money exceedingly well.

Their retired life consisted of traveling to Europe, purchasing a cabin on a lake, along with a fifth-wheel trailer which they took down to Gulf Shores, Alabama for several months of the year for probably a dozen years or so. They had so much fun. They most certainly were living the “good” life.

Now that I’m in my 50’s and the kids are grown and largely self-sufficient, the “good” life that I envision for me and Hubs is starting to feel within our grasp.

Here’s what it looks like: a nomad-like existence for a year. Selling our town home and hitting the road. Spending time in all 50 states in our camper. As long as there’s wi-fi, as Hubs says, “I can work anywhere”. Without a mortgage to pay, we can surely manage on his salary alone. Then I would be free to explore. Free to express myself creatively. Free to give of my time, energy, and skills to volunteer somewhere.

After that year has concluded, we would travel in Europe for a month or so, then purchase a new home in Colorado. Preferably a solid, well maintained, 50’s era ranch home that needs a little TLC. Make it ours. Maybe I’d find a part time job in another non-profit that could benefit from my years of experience. Or maybe I’d choose to volunteer at a couple different non-profits instead.

If we continue to be smart with our finances, down the road we could buy a plot of land on a small lake with good fishing opportunities. Build our own cabin, complete with a dock, fire pit, and a large deck that overlooks the water. Friends and family would visit on the regular. We’d have a large garden and we’d host lively holiday gatherings. Now, that would be my definition of the final chapter of the “good” life. Fulfilling experiences, eye-opening adventures, and lots of meaningful connections with others.

How about you all? What, specifically, does the term living the “good” life mean for you?

***Header image courtesy of https://zaiderrr.medium.com/the-pleasant-life-vs-the-good-life-808021808469

Anxiety, Blogging, Moods, Self-Reflection, Writing

Reasons Why I Blog

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As any of you that read my blog on the regular are aware, I’ve been in a funk for about the last month. Especially blogging-wise.

You may have noticed that I skipped publishing a blog post yet again last week. But this time, I didn’t mentally beat myself up as much as I usually do. That could be due to some of my followers comments on my last post telling me not to berate myself about it. That they also skip a week or two or three every so often.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for that, Christie and Rebecca.

So with that and the increased busyness of my life in general (not complaining here, folks), I’ve working on taking myself off the hook.

I feel like I need to hit the re-set button with this blog. Like in my bones. Because I want to keep blogging, really. But sometimes…not so much.

The overthinking is dragging me down. The indecisiveness about what I want to write about is grating on my nerves. I’ve allowed it to take too much of my mental energy. It’s not as much fun as it used to be.

So I think it might not be the worst idea to ponder why it is that I’m still blogging.

How about you all? Have you ever just thought “Why am I doing this?” Well that’s where I am right now as a blogger.

Bear with me as I share with you the reasons why I blog. I encourage you to share in the comments the reasons why you blog as well. Your honest perspectives would truly interest me.

  • Blogging helps me to make sense of what I think and how I feel. It’s cathartic for me sometimes. I like the sense of release I feel when I hit that “publish” button.
  • I selfishly enjoy knowing that when I’m long gone, I will have left words from my heart and brain for my family and friends to access anytime they wish to feel my presence. Kind of like the little notebooks Bonnie wrote in and her recipe box that I nabbed after her funeral. I miss her so much.
  • The encouraging comments I receive from my readers. They often warm my heart. Often they make me feel understood and validated. Sometimes they make me think of things from a different perspective, which is very valuable to me as a person who strives to enhance my worldview in this crazy world of ours.
  • Blogging sometimes presents new opportunities for me to pursue. For instance, the newest option of adding a podcast. I’ve always been intrigued at the thought of working as a deejay, and this is a harmless way to give it a shot.

All that being said, the re-set button is being set right now. I’m choosing from this point on to not force myself to publish weekly. But I’m also not quitting this blogging thing.

My hope is that once I stand back and re-assess things for a bit, I’ll come back invigorated and enthusiastic about blogging again.

****Header image courtesy of https://rhondawilliamsnow.com/how-god-uses-an-interruption-to-reset-your-life/