Twenty…and a pregnant pause leading up to it. This may have seemed strategic on my part, but I really didn’t mean for there to be almost a week in between this and my last post. In fact, the delay pained me.
I could blame a cocktail fusion of bountiful duties, stresses and strains but those alone wouldn’t stand in my way. No…there was something else. Poison. Seeping in through breaks and pores and I, too hectic to see it.
Thoughts of redundancy crept in and took hold; feelings that what I had to say was useless, unnecessary, and, worst of all, uninteresting. After all, we can scoop out as much of the ‘useless unnecessary’ we want, but hand out uninteresting and the world stops. It stops, and so do the readers. Poison reigns.
As a result, this past week has been me, talking myself out of writing, telling myself no one will notice, no one will care…convincing myself it won’t matter. So, why slog on? Oh, woa-ez me.
My bouts with potentially potent poison have had me down in the fathomless folds of forlorn. Past visits to this dank, dark space have had me believing only I can get myself up and out and let’s face it, sometimes, the easy button just isn’t around; buried deep in the couch pillows or…under a slab of super thick cement.
This time has been different. It took me a while to clue in – I’m not alone. I have my interests, my thoughts, my words and a spot to call my own. I have expectant readers checking in, searching for fresh utterances. I have followers taking the time to comment, like and message and I have fellow bloggers gracing me with reblogs and mentions; all bestowing me with virtual high fives.
I love to write, but it can be an isolated endeavor. You are the antidote to the toxins that can sometimes course through my veins. I am truly grateful for your stake in my blog. I’m humbled by your interest in what I have to say. I am blessed that you inspire me to do what I hold dear.
You are why. I can’t thank you enough.