I kept meaning to write here again as I previously promised myself that I would. I would occasionally visit, think about writing, think too much time had passed and that I would need to do a “catch up” post before I could really start writing about what I wanted. The next time I came back I could have written volumes of between then and nows. And the next time and the next time, talking myself out of writing each time. So here I am once more wondering why.
The answer is that I ‘m not sure why I do this. As though somehow what I want to write about today isn’t valid until I write about what happened yesterday? Or all the yesterdays since my last post? As though this blog must be some kind of linear record of all my things? Or perhaps I talk myself out of writing because I gave myself a “rule” (here) and I hate rules. I balk at rules. I loathe being told what to do, apparently even if it’s my own self doing the talking (disclaimer: I am talking about rules in life generally not in a job or taxes or driving – uh, scratch that last one. I have definitely occasionally driven over the speed limit). Maybe it even has something to do with the fact that I keep a personal journal as well and loads of the things I’ve been going through over the last year are deeply personal that involve self evolution, figuring out love and relationship stuff, grieving the loss of my grandfather and I don’t want to share many of those things in a public forum because being vulnerable is scary. Especially with strangers. Just in case any of them actually read this little ol’ blog.
But then I realized that, as in my life, I am in charge of my choices, my level of sharing, and I get to make up my own rules (let’s not call them that though, okay?) and I am giving myself permission to let this be and look however it is. Period.
I don’t want to write here with a theme. I am not writing to or for followers for the sake of having them. If you read things here and they make you smile, think, or feel – awesome! If not, no biggie. I’m still going to write it because it makes me smile, think, and feel. And if one person, one time reacts any of these ways then I am glad. With that said I don’t know what I’ll write about or how many times a week, if I’ll post photos or not (although I suspect I will), or what it will all be or mean – also mirroring my life. I just know that I’m going to do … something. This brings me to a much larger decision in my life. I’ve been in a rut. Down in the dumps. In limbo. Grief stricken. Between things, lots of different kinds of things. Stagnate. Immobilized by … I don’t even know… fear? Yeah, probably fear. No, not probably. I am afraid.
That’s the first time I’ve said that out loud. Well, you know what I mean. I’m afraid.
The biggie? I am afraid of not finding a job: My five year position as a managing director of a small family business from negative revenue, failing equipment, old trucks, no savings, no hope to a company that can boast a nearly $2 million revenue with a new fleet of trucks, all new equipment, a hefty savings, updated retirement benefits for the now more than 15 technicians and project managers, and a $3 million government contract is over. I realize that I want to do a different kind of job now. One that marries all that responsibility, organization, and badassery with my thirst for travel, my passion for making, and tapping into the things that light me up. What that is I have no freaking idea. I’m running out of savings and consequently my security.