The Symmetry Epiphany

I have been trying to sort out my problem with becoming a blogger. I did not feel right about being one though I could not fully work out what that meant to me. I do not think that anyone can become something until they are comfortable with and can fully understand what it means to them to be that particular thing. For example, I categorize myself in several ways. These are elements of myself I understand and I perform in a way that is true to who I am. I wish I could do each better, to be the best I can be for the people I encounter in each. I am me, first of all and I am a mother in the greatest parts of my heart and mind. I am able to call my best friend my spouse and I appreciate every random and disconnected day that has brought me to be able to do so. I am also a grand-daughter, daughter, aunt, sister, cousin, niece, friend and possible foe. I was raised by The Muppets, Shel Silverstein and a wildly mashed together village of extraordinary personalities who understood the importance of telling the truth, sucking it up and playing outside. I both intensely enjoy and forever strive to improve my place of employment and I hope to always consider myself a student of one thing or another. Through it all, I am a writer. Through it all I have forgotten what being a writer means to me.

So, that said, it goes without saying that I am in need of balance. I am guessing that statement may apply to some folks out there searching about on the internet as well. So, I welcome you to join me in a bit of a journey. Be forewarned that this particular journey may, at times, be as unfortunate as the one experienced by some accompanying hobbits long ago and far away but, like that and many since, I think we’ll all come out of it exhilarated and a touch closer to peace. That’s what it is all about, after all- this journey through life- to become who we are meant to be, to survive the hardships and find peace in the knowledge that we are content and loved? I think that’s what the modernists wanted but few realized where to look.   

Now, my husband thinks I am crazy. I suppose I should throw out that small discloser as well. My response is generally to quote Seal, so I will let you be the judge. I’ve certainly taken a considerable tangent from my original point, so that would be an argument in his favor. To return, I have sorted out my problem with becoming a blogger. I was going about it the wrong way, as the one or two of you (relatives) who read my one and only failed blog attempt will understand. I could not find an inspiration that felt genuine enough to put out there, to say, “Hey! Read me!” As a newly published author, I thought I was supposed to promote, to spread the word, to jump up and down. But, that’s not who I am. That type of flair exceeds my level of fancy. I am one soul and mind molded by all the relationships above, by all of the emotions and experiences I’ve encountered through my journey up to this point. These relationships, these emotions and these experiences did not create a being who feels comfortable with blatant solicitation. I have no idea why I had this initial impression of what it means to be a blogger. I apologize to bloggers everywhere. There was never a conversation, never a suggestion of any such expectation. In truth, I was overwhelmed. I was completely ignorant to the whole thing and let all other parts of my life fall out of balance around me.

There are two things I know I need when my balance is off. That said, I am fairly certain I have had a sufficient amount of life experience to be able to accurately judge what ideal balance is for me, though I am well aware I have not yet achieved the ability to be completely still. I have been fortunate enough, however, to have had moments where I am able to sit and smile and breathe.

These moments have been endangered for a good amount of time. Life delivers illness and loss and the need to support and be supported to a wildly mashed together village. Life disrupts the balance while reminding us why it’s important. Sometimes the things that make us who we are have been lost from our minds, or we tuck them away to be the version of ourselves others need. Eventually, as you know, that loss is noticed and we need to remind ourselves who we are.

I need to hear the ocean and I need to write when I am grossly out of balance. My grandfather resides as the king of the sea, so once in a while I need to visit him to help sort things out. This most recent visit ended with a gift in the form of a snowy owl perched along Route 1A and two glorious red-tailed hawks along Route 4. I love when loved ones who have passed seek help from animals to secure their messages. Then came the epiphany. (Thanks, Boopie) Write to say thank you. Write to share a story. Write to help someone find a smile or realize an obstacle. Write to be part of a journey worth sharing. That’s what I’ve realized being a blogger can mean for me. Come, let’s become what we are meant to be.