Alright, so a confession about me:
I’m the type who likes to avoid things and procrastinate. (I feel like there are many who like to avoid things and procrastinate. I have a feeling I am probably in quite good company here, but that’s not really the point.)
I love this blog. I’ve said that many times.
This blog has been… amazingly helpful to me in tough times, and also something that I’ve been using as proof to myself that I *am*, actually capable of committing to something.
I’ve kept it going for over two years now, so I feel like that’s honestly really something.
There have been pauses and breaks, and some of that has been due to location, or lack of resources.
Some of it though, has also been because – I’m the type, who, when I get behind in things, I like to run away.
Because sometimes, it seems easier to run from a mess than to fix it. (Not that I think this blog has ever been a mess, really.)
It is, however, one of those things that becomes harder to get back to once I get behind.
Sometimes, when I lose the time or energy to keep up with posting, I feel this…looming thing.
It starts to feel bigger and scarier, and there’s this guilt attached to it, like, anything I can do I should have already done.
But I really do love this blog.
So, even when I get a bit trampled by things, I want to get back to it.
And, eventually, I’ll manage to scrounge up the courage to bite the bullet and get back on the horse – as it were.
I’m on the cusp of another adventure.
(I rather hope that… I hope that I sort of always feel that way.
Adventure is trying, and tiring, and magical and wonderful and usually at least a little bit painful. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to find a safe space out of the wind to rest for a while before settling back into the path ahead. But…if you choose to make a home forever in your place of refuge, you’ll never find out what’s over the next hill.)
Right now, I am… tired and terrified and utterly ecstatic. I feel a bit like I’ve gotten my fingers caught in the door, but also like a few bruises kept those same doors open.
I’ve never been afraid to admit that I make mistakes, but I also try to learn from them.
This past month, I feel like I have learned a lot.
I’m not always the best student, so sometimes my lessons are a bit unorthodox. I learn though, and these past weeks, I have learned a lot.
Perhaps one of the most important things that I have figured out – one of those things that is such a small detail; a tiny shift of angle, that, despite it’s inherent smallness, manages to somehow shift everything – is that… I don’t have to have the same type of life as everyone else.
This is something that I’ve probably said in many ways before, and, honestly, I will probably say in many ways again.
Because I try very hard to remember that my life is not anyone else’s, and what works for other people may not work for me, and that this is perfectly okay.
A thought that has often plagued me – was, in fact, a huge part of why I started this blog – was this reason, this idea of ‘commitment’.
I travel. I take short-term positions. I am not often in one place long enough to truly *settle*, as it were.
I have finally reached a place where… I think I’m starting to be okay with that.
I’ve finally realized that… having restless feet isn’t something that needs to be fought.
It’s okay if that’s what I want to do with my life.
If the things that make me happy are taking temp positions, that’s okay. If I never truly figure out how to put roots down – that is okay.
Like any life, there are benefits and disadvantages.
But that’s just it, really.
It’s like any life.
I guess that it doesn’t really matter how long I’ve been at it: I keep discovering new ways in which I am the only one living *my* life.
It doesn’t matter what most people do.
All that matters is what works for me. What I can do that keeps me happy.
Even if it’s something I’ve never seen before, or something that I’ve never quite put together.
There are so many ways in which I’ve built my life around what I thought I was supposed to do.
I think I’ll keep discovering more of these, no matter how long I’ve been working at it.
I also think that’s okay.
Life is learning.
(If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t hardly be any fun…)
My life doesn’t need to make sense to anyone but me.
(And, honestly, I get confused by weird fucking shit, so, if it doesn’t make sense to me all the time, that’s okay. (Especially because most of the time I get confused about how incredibly fucking amazing my life is, and I feel like it’s really okay if I get confused by how singularly magical my life is.))
I guess this is me.
Getting back on the horse, and letting you all know that despite my occasional need to hide from things, this is one thing I will come back to.
So. Thanks for hanging in here with me. You’re all fucking wonderful.