It’s been a while, too long, since I last blogged or even wanted to. It feels like much more time has passed since the month since my last post and – in truth – I’ve been wrapped up in so much I haven’t wanted to. So I gave myself a pass to not feel guilty or compelled to do so. Instead, I let myself focus on my own feelings and on the things I’ve needed to put my energy into. So very little time exists to achieve anything at all, I have been more selective lately on what I can and cannot do. This doesn’t come naturally to me, at all, so I let a blogging hiatus happen in order to deal with and achieve other stuff. Like good friends, I think time passed and you just pick up where you left off… Doing things only out of duty absorbs all joy from activities or friendships, otherwise.
But this morning, reading My Big Shouting Day with Emilia, I felt the stirrings of wanting to write again and to reconnect. It was a big shouting day for both of us, really – which is why we came to be reading a book so-called and why we even own it. Being able to connect with books like this – and have a wry giggle at our weaknesses – is the best thing about behaving like a tit now and then. My daughter seems to have inherited my fire (or I still act like a three year old) and so, god help us both, one of the best things I can teach her is how to laugh at herself. I’d suggest how to control herself, also, but I need to learn that myself first, too.
And so to bed. I can’t promise another blog before the month is out. Let’s just see how we roll.