All is calm, all is bright.

It’s funny, how things work sometimes. I’ve been quiet, nearly non-existent here on the blog lately. It’s been more than a week since I posted, and even before that I was quieter than usual.

Not that things were quiet at Casa de Katie, obviously – nothing is ever quiet at Casa de Katie – quite the opposite, in fact. Because so much was happening, with ThePlaceThatShallNotBeNamed, some freelance projects, some up and downs with the girls and co-parenting, family health issues, friendship drama, and yes, maybe even a new someone in my life, that I found I was pulling inward more than usual. I had so much to say, but so very much of it was tied into things I didn’t want to (or felt I couldn’t) talk about it. And with the emotional exhaustion that came from sorting everything out in real life, it was honestly easier to talk about nothing than it was to sort out what I could say, what I wanted to say, and what I wanted to stay far, far away from.

Then there was the writer’s block. I had so many large, bulky, energy-consuming things going on that I could not focus my mind on anything trivial to write about. The girls and I spent a lovely afternoon picking out Toys for Tots donation gifts? Meh. We made birdseed feeders out of pinecones and peanut butter? Uh, okay. Fen is learning how to fit in with our neurotic family and tippy-toeing up to the line of it’s-a-good-thing-I-love-you? I just couldn’t summon the energy or the words. Nothing sounded interesting enough. I couldn’t care enough about the topics my meager brainstorms offered up to even try to make you care about reading them. So why bother?

I even stopped caring that I wasn’t posting. My friends were emailing me occasionally to make sure I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t stressing over it. It was okay with me that I had a gap. I knew somehow I’d get past it. I knew that I wasn’t ready to give up the blog entirely, so I just waited it out. Inspiration and desire would come when they came.

I think they might have knocked on the door last night.

One of the books I picked up from the library this past week was Ann Patchett’s This Is the Story of a Happy Marriage, a collection of non-fiction and personal essays. I read the introduction last night, itself a really well written essay about how she broke into writing and why it works for her. I love hearing that certain something in another writer’s voice. I love listening to them set in motion a behind-the-scenes tour of the hows and whys. Patchett talked about the differences in 900-word essays, 1,200-word essays and the unmitigated joy of limitless space and choosing her subjects. Her intro focused more in how she was able to express herself, the very mechanics of it, changed along her journey. And that sparked something in me. I felt the need to write. I felt shiny and full of possibility again. The millstone had fallen away somewhere in those twenty pages. Who the hell cares about capturing memories – I just want to write. Anything. Something. So many somethings.

Kim is here, again, for Christmas. I feel like the merry and bright is finally starting. (Where have I heard that before…?) So many of the stressors are gone, or muted for a bit. It’s the breath I needed and it came in perfect conjunction with the shiny renewal of possibility. Things are untangling themselves, just as I suspected they might if I just waited it out.

Thanks for being patient with me. Thanks for being here, you beautiful gorgeous blank space of blog, you. I am still here, still writing. All is calm, and bright, and just as it should be.



One Response to “All is calm, all is bright.”

  1. Kathy Says:

    So happy to see this post. I figured life was taking a trip down Crazy Road but was a bit concerned by your absence. Welcome back! Glad things are calming. Merry Christmas my friend. Wishing you a year of calm and bright.

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