One of the long-lasting questions I've dealt with is why I write a blog. What motivates a person to write down their thoughts and share them with the world? Funny thing for me is that I don't really know and I haven't been able to isolate that piece of me that wants to do it.
The fact that I haven't written for awhile makes me take a look at this issue from the other side. Why haven't I been motivated to write? The answer to that may help me figure out many things.
When I look back at previous posts and think about the time at which they were written, I have to say that something was missing in me. Or maybe it was there and I just hadn't found it. I was definitely seeking something and I didn't know what it was. So does that mean I found it somewhere along the way? I'm not sure. Many things happened between then and now, some good, some bad, but I can't say that there was an "ah-ha" moment anytime. So I am thinking that instead of finding what was missing I merely grew up some and discovered little pieces of me that filled in some gaps. The writing was a tool that helped me do it.
Of course this would mean that my not writing now signifies that I don't need to grow anymore and that is far from true. I honest think I've just become lazy in my happiness. That burns me up because the me I want to be says that that is a fate worse than death. To be alive but not growing or discovering something new about yourself is horrible! Why be alive if that's the case?
The good thing is that another part of me says, "relax, you're still growing in other ways". I'm learning so many new things about other people in my life. I'm learning how to interact with those people in better ways. I'm discovering the beauty of this country we live in. I'm discovering the simple joys of creating things with my hands. So I'm growing outwardly instead of inwardly like I was when I started this blog. I think that's OK. Yeah, it's OK.
Another reason for writing this blog, one that I didn't realize at the time, is to give my kids a picture of who there father really was. I hope that one day they will stumble upon these ramblings and read them all from the beginning. I don't know what they will see in them. I know what I meant to convey but I can't be sure they'll see that and that's OK. They'll see me through their eyes and their experiences with me. These words may compliment those experiences or they may open up a view of their father they never knew. Either way, these words will be theirs one day when my words have stopped.
If that has happened and you're reading this now, know that I love you both and that you were the joy of my life. I was never perfect but you two brought me closer to it when you merged into my lane of life. Don't ever cry for me, laugh instead. Laugh out-loud and hard when you think of me.
Thanks for listening
