What's Coming Next

I am coming back to blogging.

I have found myself saying that often over the past few years in my sporadic sharing on this platform. This is the year I am really going to do it! And then….. five posts later, Okay now THIS is *really* the year I am going to do it…. cue same result.
And perhaps this time is just like all of those other times, but honestly this time feels different.

Because now this time, in many ways, it’s all I have.

With the world in its current state of social distancing and staying at home and daily doses of fear that invite so much confusion and anxiety—It feels like now is the time more than ever that I need to remember who I am.

And one of the things that has always pulled me back from any edge I have ever found myself on (we won’t get into how many there have been… I am an emotional creature) is sharing the beauty I see in the world.
Through words.
Through images.
Through stories.

It is a common understanding that we are all made of stories, and yet it is one of my biggest pulls to any individual I cross paths with.
Everyone’s unique narrative and my ability to bear witness to it.

I am living out one of my own that feels important to share. Not for the validation, though that is often the temptation, rather for the specific ability to offer a communal understanding and empathetic view of shared experience. Of opening up our minds and hearts to things unknown to us until exactly now that were found only within the bravery of open expression.

I also feel the need to share honestly in that part of me has felt empty since coming home.

And that’s largely because when I pulled into Virginia four months ago, after living a life on The Road for 333 days last year, I stopped telling stories.

Sure, verbally I told a few to some friends and family, and the occasional stranger who I’d meet that would pull one out of me because they’d comment on my jacket, or my hat, or the fact that I-don’t-look-like-I’m-from-around-here-even-though-I-am-it’s-just-that-I-hang-out-with-cowboys-too-much….
But mostly I’ve kept to myself and closed up in the unknown of what’s coming next in my life.

I stopped writing.

And writing has always been an integral part of me.
I have long felt that as long as I made time for both reading and writing, it was a day well lived.
The coupling of learning something new, and sharing my experience.

All of our experiences are different, especially during a time like this, but it feels important now more than ever to share that.
Resources, stories, kindness, wisdom, love, understanding, empathy…
It is within the recognition that there are experiences outside of your own that life is most often meant to be lived.

Which is why yours is one worth sharing.