I am sunk deep into our slip-covered sectional, feet propped on the coffee table. To my left: the last of our bottle of red wine from dinner waiting in my glass. A big pot of coconut- milk rice-pudding is simmering on the stove, an Ellen episode (only of of 14 on the DVR, now!) from March 7th is on TV, and tonight's bright white full-moon is hovering in the middle of our living room transom window.
It has been weeks since I sat at the computer and leisurely read through my favorite blogs, casually combed Pinterest, or thought about writing and I was beginning to fear I would never post again. I have had thoughts, lying awake at night, if I missed blogging; if I would be missed, if I had anything worth writing about; if I had anything to say worth reading... all quite dramatic and rather unnecessary, I know. Nevertheless, time away from my previous blogging routine - Monday's Music, Thrifty Thursdays, posts of poorly-taken photos, etc. - has given me some time to process things I've been feeling for a while about how I had originally intended to use this space over a year ago, and where that journey has taken me over time.
What I have found is that the things that prompted me to begin this blog as a creative outlet remain the same: I love to write- I have kept journals since I was a little girl- and I love having a visual catalog of our lives to be able to look back upon or share with others... what has happened over time is that I began to worry more about what I was writing and how often it was made public, instead of wondering if it was truly something I wanted to share. It all seems rather un-spectacular.
Don't get me wrong- I love cooking and sharing recipes. I love music, fashion, and interior design. And I love sharing my thoughts on faith, marriage, and life... but at the end of the day I am marginal in most areas, never have time to take decent photos, and am often curious if there isn't something else I'd rather use my time and energy talking about... like how sometimes "cooking" means frozen pizza, music gets turned down as silence is favored on my 2 hour commute, how fashion and interior design are things I lust after, and how most of my feelings on faith, marriage, and life might shock or shame some who think they've got me pegged.
All said, I will continue to write... but I am going to challenge myself- and am asking you all to bravely join me- to share more of the truth, good and bad, that is life.
That, that is our life.
Meanwhile, I am still sunk deep into our slip-covered sectional- that is laden with myriad animal hair- and my feet are propped on the coffee table- that has crumbs from the past few night's dinners spread across it- and the last of the wine bottle that I started this evening before Dan even got home is warm in a glass to my left. We'll take the dogs for a walk, stare at the moon, and talk about grass-is-always-greener dreams, then get ready for bed, cuddle as we fall asleep without praying together in weeks. Tomorrow we will wake up on Good Friday but instead of spending the day in reverence, we'll worry about the usual things and get caught up in the normal routine. Anti-radical... Ordinary.
My biggest fear has always been being ordinary.
I want to live my life as anything but ordinary.
Think I can do it?