It feels as if I have waited years (and perhaps I have) for
the faintest inspiration to write something, anything. The words would not come. I cannot tell you how many hours I sat here
staring at a blank screen. I am not
saying that I am suddenly overrun with ideas and words, only that for today at
least, it feels as it should, as it used to.
I had wondered if I had written it all out, my story; and if
I had how sad that would be to have all one’s life put into words with no
possible chance of new happenings in the future. That is what it felt like, as if anything
that might happen in the future would be of so little consequence as to not
merit even the passing thought of being chronicled. It was a dismal feeling to be sure and a sad
thing to think that in so short a time I could have written out my past: truly,
there has to be more to me than that.
What do I see in the time yet to come in my life that will
merit taking the time to write about it?
I see life. I am a survivor; I
even have a bracelet that says as much.
I will continue as I have been with a positive outlook and the
expectation that my encounters with people (both old friends and new acquaintances)
will be filled with joy. If there is one
aspect of living that is missing in my life I would say it is contact with
other people and yet I really have no idea what to do to change it or if I need
to change it at all. You see, I am quite
content living just as I have been. I
feel no real need to change the way I live, I love it when I encounter other
people and I have no problems talking to them and yet I love my life at home,
quiet as it is. I think to continue as I
have been is quite the right thing to do.
Life is good. We are
making plans for a couple of road trips in March; Don is thinking of doing a
couple of runs out of state. Day by day
the calendar ticks of the days of winter; soon we will have milder days more
often. Today the wind howls, tomorrow it
should be calmer…
There is always hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment