Today's Quote: "Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith. I consider the capacity for it terrifying." - Kurt Vonnegut
Sooooooo . . . . happy new year. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been neglecting the blog. My last post was a few days before Thanksgiving. I'm really uncertain about the future of A Hidden Well. Part of me feels like it's time to let it go. I seldom update anymore because I just don't feel as though I have much to say. Or maybe it's more that I don't believe what I have to say is print worthy. Or that I don't believe I express myself as well as I'd like to in writing. If I were just plain tired of writing then the decision would be simple -- I'd just stop blogging. But it's more complicated than that. The fact is, I still long to write. What I'm struggling with is a serious case of writer's block that I just can't seem to shake. And the longer it lasts, the more convinced I become that I will never write again, and that I have no business even trying. Once upon a time I was a good writer. Maybe not an extraordinary one, but a damn good one. And most of the time the writing came easily. It's as though a muse was always close by, ready to whsiper in my ear. I've never had to work particularly hard at writing. It's sort of like my penmanship . . . it just happens to be neat all on its own. It's not something I worked hard to acheive. It just is. I can't really take much credit for it, although I'd be lying if I didn't admit to appreciating the compliments. I always believed that being able to write well was just a fortunate gift of happenstance. What I never anticipated was losing the gift. I thought it was an inexorable part of me, like my blue eyes or my flat feet. I didn't think of myself merely as someone who likes to write. I thought of myself as a writer. It was once the strongest element of my identity. Stronger even than woman, daughter, wife. When I looked in the mirror I knew exactly who I was. A writer. These days I look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman looking back at me. Sure there's the same blue eyes, same flat feet, nut who am I really? If not a writer, than who? Of course, I don't even know how to go about figuring out the answer to that without writing. As you can see, I'm in a bit of a quandary.
So, what brings me here today, after more than six weeks of silence? That would be my friend Shelly, who sent me a note that said "I'm ready for another quick update, pointless or not!" I'm not sure what part of that statement had the most powerful effect on me -- the realization that someone missed my words, or her permission to be pointless! In either case, it worked. Here I am.
I've been spending a great deal of time on Face Book these days. It's very cool, because so many people participate. I feel like I'm more in touch with my friends than ever before. Not just my local, present day friends, but out of state friends, relatives, high school friends, long lost friends, friends of friends. It's fascinating, to say the least. (One caveat: Face Book is rife with all sorts of quizzes and word games that are highly addictive and can easily suck up hours of your time if you aren't careful. Take it from one who knows. PathWords and BubbleWords are among my favorites. I'm also not half bad at Scramble!)
What else can I share? Here's a list of random news bits.
- Jack's been a major insomniac over the past month or so. I started giving him melatonin a few nights ago, and it seems to be doing the trick. (Knocking on wood as I type this.)
- I've had chapped lips for the past three months. Blistex is my new best friend.
- I am currently reading The Last Summer (of You & Me) by Ann Brashares (it's okay so far), and listening to the audio version of The Senator's Wife by Sue Miller (which I'm enjoying).
- I'm itching for "something new" . . . a new hobby, interest, cause. Can't quite put my finger on what that something is, but I think it needs to be something creative.
- I've also found myself thinking a lot about the summer (must be all this snow) and pondering possible vacations. Do I want to go back to Ferry Beach for a camping, outdoorsy, hippie-happy, singing, drumming, and bonding with friends kind of vacation? Or do I want the complete opposite -- a week in a nice, clean, dry hotel, meals at restaurants, visiting amusement parks and souvenir shops and doing touristy kinds of things? The truth is, I want both. And I'm not sure we can swing that this summer. Better yet, I want to go to Europe! But I'm quite certain that's not happening.
- Chloe is selling Girl Scout cookies. Anyone want a box?
- I've been craving orange juice and pink grapefruits.
- And for those who might be following the saga, Casey STILL doesn't have the whole pooping in the potty thing figured out. I think we should buy stock in Fruit of the Loom.
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