Yesterday I ignored the alarm. The baby had been up often during the wee hours and since he has spoiled his mother with a typical eight hours of sleep each night, I fancied myself justified in choosing an hour of dozing over my planned jog.
By noon I was cursing that extra rest and the way it derailed our entire morning. I was cursing alarms and breakfasts and errands and that stupid 5K in September.
All three children napped at the same time after lunch and I stared at the wall for ten gloriously silent minutes before stumbling to the Keurig for an afternoon cup of piping hot energy.
The inventor of the Keurig was an exhausted mother. I have no idea whether or not that’s true (I’m guessing not), but let’s pretend.
I told myself I would harness that moment of quiet for writing, but I watched two episodes of Arrested Development and cleaned out my inbox instead. Apparently being on a social media sabbatical for six months doesn’t stop the email from piling up. Who knew?
Once a month I face a deadline and realize it’s been three or four weeks since I’ve written anything serious. Once a month I stare at a blank screen and struggle to find coherence in the jumble of thoughts I’ve shoved into some dark cranial crevice. And once a month I curse all the afternoons I’ve surfed Facebook or booted up Netflix instead of tapping a keyboard. I curse my commitments and my lack of planning and my crippling fear and my inability to find balance.
My homegirl Anne Lamott (as my other homegirl Sarah Bessey calls her – I stole that one) suggests the discipline of writing 300 words a day. I told myself and my confidantes I’d do that, for my own sanity, if I stopped writing in this space. I didn’t.
My sanity seems to be holding its own these days, except for being so cluttered with crappy, unfinished thoughts it could qualify for an episode of Hoarders.
So here I am. Getting out a few inconsequential crappy thoughts. Clearing away the cob-webbed words. Just doing a little house cleaning.
you gotsa grab a broom to get some of the big tippy top cobwebs and that’s usually messy. proud of you for steppin’ out. this place ain’t the same without you.
It’s all sorts of messy up in there right now. You’re good at handing me a broom, though. xoxo
I know it’s hard to find our way back after being gone, for a tangle of reasons, for a time. I am here cheering, I never left, I never lost your heart, even if I missed your sweet words. Clean a room here, a room there, when you can. Heck, lovey, shake a rag rug out a window to us on a day that’s all you can manage.
Love you, love your struggling down and blooming back, even if they are always happening simultaneously, like they are for me.
xo
(I hope I get to be the first to say WELCOME BACK!)
Always simultaneously. Why is that? Does it have to do with building strength, the way a muscle breaks down continually as it tones?
Thank you for the way you get my heart.
Missed you, girl! Glad you’re back, scattered thoughts and all.
(ps-me and my keurig are tight as well…best.invention.ever.)
xoxo
You and me? We need to do that meetup.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been called a homegirl before but I’ll take it! Makes me feel all bad-ass. So so so happy you did it, you blogged! 300 crappy words a day beat 1,000 perfect words that never arrive, baby, every time.
And P.S. This is totally not crappy. xoxo
You’re always bad ass, SB. You with all your Canadian words and hard questions.
This is good. This is cathartic. You’re finding your way back…and we welcome you with open arms!
Thank you, friend. It is cathartic.
Glad you’re here and back in all your lovely glory. I’ve missed these words of yours, even though I completely understand, respect, and support your sabbatical. Here’s to whatever comes next for you, my friend!
I’m hoping to explore the reasons behind that sabbatical a bit once I regain my sea legs. It has definitely changed me as a person, if that’s possible with a blog-related decision.
Sometimes just writing a bit helps clear out the cobwebs. But sometimes it takes not writing to realize the cobwebs exist, eh?
Good to see you back.
HUGS
As I read this it felt like a breath of fresh air. I physically felt myself breathe in deep and exhale. The Spirit thought popped into my head that you never give up. You never give up! I so admire that.
I was just thinking about you, and us and how grateful I am. That you love me through it all and I love you back through it all and how the heart strings are still there, tugging, even as we grow and move and change and glow.
I feel like this was really real, Ash. Keep sweeping and uncovering you and showing her to us. <3
oh man, anne lamott is the coolest, isn’t she? and i can relate so much to you in this, ashley. it is so good to know i’m not stumbling along in this mother-writer’s daze, alone.