Challenged in Changes

I did say my writing here would be sporadic.

I realize that is not necessarily good for the must-post-because-people-are-waiting age that we live in. But I don’t write here for that.

My hopes is that when someone falls upon this site, it will contain something worth the reading, if only for one very small thing. A respite in the day. Relieving the clicking trigger-finger on the keyboard, a moment away from the washing, the news, the shopping, the cooking, the cleaning, the studying….Whatever bogs us down in our every day lives.

Every day is a challenge. Every day is posed with changes. A new gray hair signals some challenge (endured or overcome), a change (negotiated with as much grace as I could muster).  When my head is full of nothing but gray hairs? Then I can say that I am, indeed, a survivor of life.

I’ll wear my fluffy white crown, then, and it will be a signal:  You can ask me…if I didn’t go through it, I knew someone who did. I sat with them, I held them. I listened. I tried to speak only when the drops would saturate and soothe, not burn off in the heat of trouble.


Fear of Writing

When I think of writing, I think of fear. From the moment when I was able to write as more than just an exercise in penmanship, writing became fear.

No. That isn’t quite accurate.

It was the moment when someone else saw what I wrote outside of an exercise in penmanship: That was when writing became fear.

So I am, so many years after that moment, starting a blog of writing. It is an attempt to overcome the fear by “going public”. It is giving into the fear by doing it anonymously.

One can’t conquer everything all at once.