I miss my blog. I often think about blogging and then my mind goes a little blank. When I was teaching, things would happen and I would say to myself, "Hmmm.... I think I want to write about that later." And I would. It was rare if I didn't post at least once a week. In this new life, I just feel so content. I hardly ever think about things that are bothering me. My writing has always been about issues that I couldn't resolve any other way. I find myself just sort of floating through life now. There are still things happening that aren't all sunshine and rainbows but nothing big. I'm not dealing with adolescent angst or parents that just don't get it. There are no politics at play here. I have issues throughout my work day but we deal with them and they are gone. Poof. They don't stay in the back of my head irritating me the way they used to. I know that part of it is being home. I love being here, surrounded with everything I love. I can do whatever I need to do when I need to do it. There is no, "when I get home, I need to..." going on in my head. It is calm and peaceful.
This is a simple life and I'm clearly not bothered by things the way I used to be. But why is it that I have so little to write about? That certainly wasn't true of Buddha or Thoreau. They removed themselves from the world and wrote about deep and spiritual topics. Maybe I'm just not that deep. Maybe when you remove all the chaos of the outside work world, I'm a lot like my grandfather and simply take each day as it comes. Or maybe this is part of growing up and no longer being bothered by the little things that used to overwhelm me.
I love writing and I miss it now that the topics don't seem to show themselves. Perhaps it's time for me to take out my heart map and just write about things I care about. Writing from the point of view of love and gratitude rather than the kid or parent that ticked me off could be interesting. Let's just see what comes up...
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