I haven’t done this in a while, maybe in over a year, maybe longer, but for some reason, it felt right, to do in this moment. I miss writing, I miss how it became my escape, how it provided me solace and sanctuary in a world that was rocky and unpredictable for me, and to be quite honest, still is. I miss writing, and yet, every time I’ve sat down to jot the words, the words escape me, quicker than a flock of birds being approached by an unknown soul, fluttering and scampering about, simply trying to escape the situation as quickly as possible. That’s how I felt I reacted when I would sit down to write. While writing was not something I exactly thought about often, it was always in the back of my mind, always something looming in the shadows of my life. Write more, Andrea, write. As an artist must paint to practice their art, you too, must write a bit each day to keep your love for writing alive.
It’s so easy to ignore something when that something is yourself. You become consumed with other things, you fill your life to the brim, hour by hour, day by day, with functions, events and gatherings that seem to provide satisfaction to you. You anticipate and plan these events so far out, the excitement building and building, until once the event arrives, the fizz is gone and all you’re left with is a flat luke-warm beverage, the bubble and the excitement having evaporated, the bubble and excitement long gone.
I miss writing, I do. I miss the freedom it provided me, the escape it granted me, the world it let me create. For so long, in a life that, in a way, doesn’t even feel like it once belonged to me, writing was my way out, it was where I went to create and develop my dreams. I recall sitting on my lunch break while at my previous job, jotting down quotes and inspirational phrases that I, myself, had come up with. Things to help me get through the day, things that would inspire me when I was down. And let me tell you, there is absolutely nothing in this world more inspiring than reading inspirational text from someone that you could so easily relate to….yourself. It provides you with a serenity, that while you may be feeling down in a certain moment, things are bound to get better, they HAVE to get better, because you reading words that were written by YOU, in a time when life was easier, life was simpler, and you were happy. It will get better, if you trust the words written by you.
Life has absolutely consumed me… my days are short, and my months, shorter. Days quickly blend into nights, morning coffee cups swiftly morph into evening wine glasses, and life as I know it has turned into a slide projector..clicking from one slide to the next, without even a second to simply appreciate the image, the life, projected.
I feel as if I’ve lost myself a bit in the flurry of life. I am trying so hard to grasp onto the things that I love, the things that truly make me happy, and even in doing so, I’ve become stressed out because it feels like just one more thing added to my plate.
I’m not asking for a simple life, no, and in fact, not at all. I am not looking for a life filled with routine, cookie cutter schedules and predictability. I am not looking for a life where the clock ticks by slowly and the days feel like years. Those things are not at all what I am searching for. Simply, I am attempting to re-find myself, to take another shot at the things I love, the things that have brought so much happiness into my life, and determining where the balance may lie, where the fulcrum exists.
While I have been granted endless opportunities in the past two years to truly explore and discover this amazing city, I may have forgotten about the one thing true thing that begets discovery, and that is the discovery of myself.