There may be an interesting change on my horizon, and as I mulled over the possibility of it while sipping my coffee this morning, I felt the urge to sift back through my writing here — all two years of it. I’ve laughed aloud, winced, and cried all in the span of an hour, wallowing in the memories.
At another point in my life, I’d have needed to sift through old photos kept in boxes, or read entries in dusty notebooks to gain what I’ve enjoyed today just sitting here. Although I’ve been tempted to print the text of my accumulated posts more than once, I know it wouldn’t be the same as being able to read through them here, and to remember what mattered on a given day in February last year, or feel again the angst a particular teacher caused our family the year before. No, the pages would end up in a box somewhere like so many other aspects of our lives we believe matter.
Instead, I’ve decided to make private most of what I’ve written here. I can’t give it up completely, so it seemed the best compromise.
Change is good, isn’t it?
We learn and grow from the decisions we make about our lives and experiences. And you know what is said of rolling stones and moss, right?