I'm trying to figure out what to do with this space. Maybe it's a little taboo to talk about your blog as an entity. That's okay. I'm weary of such shoulds and shouldn'ts. This small journal (is it terribly cliched to refer to a blog as such? yes? okay) is akin to a favorite sweater. A little loose, a little large when I first slipped it on, but I grew into the texture, shape. For five years now. It's a nice sweater, thick and corded, a very very soft gray color, like the light in the early morning. The back is stitched, the elbows darned. It's rather shabby and in need of patching. I should give it one good shake, one last wear, and pack it away. But I can't bear to say goodbye. Not yet, anyways (this is growing rather sentimental). Forgive me my need to romanticize. Forgive me my need for poetry in all manner of ordinary. The point being . . . I'm finding myself here again and it's too small, or rather I'm a different sort of stock now, or rather I've realized what sort of stock I am, or rather I'm a the edge of a road leading somewhere new and there's no room for worn in sweaters. I'm aware this is makes little sense. I'm aware I'm walking around metaphors (truth be told I'm dancing cheek to cheek alongside them). What I'm trying to say is that I return and return to this blog only to find the more I write, the less I belong. This is not to say I'm not still writing, or will stop in the future. Perish the thought (what a quaint, wonderful phrase). But the direction and equilibrium of my life has shifted, irreversibly. In small ways. In large ways. And in an effort to find balance, I'm weighing particulars and realizing some things cast the weight too far off track. My life is a little ship, a small dawn treader and I've taken on too much. I need to steer my course steady, sure, and so somethings must be let go of. Some will sink, some float. This is not to say that there is no possibility for a future hello. This is not to say permanence need be all bad. This is not to say change is heartbreaking, though we find ourselves heartbroken by the variants we cannot comprehend. But this is to say I've arrived at an ending and am gathering my courage to step through a doorway. This is to say I'm wondering where to go from here.
photo by lillian