Searching

“I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.” – Emily Dickinson

9.27.26

Today was the first day in a long time that I did not have an impending sense of doom. Not doom in the normal sense, but the inability to be fully in the moment because there’s too much hanging over you, a backlog of to-do’s that may or may not ever be done, trying to hold all the pieces of staying in touch with others and with myself.

I’ve been in some level of survival mode for months now. Life doesn’t care or slow down. I’m busy and overwhelmed daily…except for today.

I think I’ve been searching for a me that I remember fondly. One who held to a routine, sang for the sake of singing – and posted it for strangers on the internet, one who got home from work tired but would still make dinner feel far from mundane; the one who wrote, who relaxed – from the past. I miss her. I don’t know when she left or the real reason, but I’ve wanted her back ever since.

The version of that me I have been desperate to have back, is highly romanticized. All of the pain and struggle that existed simultaneously to this version of me, has been muted.

So, I realized today, that I can never be that person again – and that’s okay. Current me, future me, are just as important as the one in my memory I’ve been trying to hold on to. Instead of looking for those pieces of me, and trying to make them fit into my current life, I must accept the me that exists now. How sad to leave her waiting, while I conduct a pointless search for pieces of the past.

I am not the same person I was, and yet I still am me. Celebrating that sounds silly, especially since I don’t harbor as much love for this me as the other, but what might be a turning point, a perspective shift, that is worth a small celebration.

How else do we move forward, if we do not let go of the past…

So hello, Strangers and Friends. It’s so good to speak to you again. I’m hopeful for the future, even though unknown.

Turning out Spring

It is officially Spring. Not just on the calendar, but also in the cold rain and green peeking through.


Yesterday and today have been graced with rain, and while gloom usually gets me down, these instances felt relaxing. Maybe it’s the birdsong breaking through the patter of droplets, or the seagulls call once again echoing off of wet pavement.
I must have partially forgotten that I like rain. As long as it isn’t endless gloom and keeping oneself indoors, it really is quite lovely. You can smell growth in the air and hope shows itself in buds appearing on trees.

I went on a walk last Saturday. It was my only day to sleep in and I got up early to go on a walk. Though the wind was strong and cold, it felt really good to force myself to take a moment to slow down.

Slowing down or slow living, in concept, makes sense. Putting it into practice for my own life is slightly more challenging. When I haven’t accomplished my high standard or expectation of what should be achieved, the harshest critic lives inside my head. Not even realizing, I’ll beat myself up for needing a nap, or only accomplishing two loads of laundry instead of cleaning the whole apartment. Do I base my worth, in part, on how much I’ve done? It might be so.

There’s got to be a difference between a strong work ethic and running yourself ragged trying to keep up with impossible expectations, a balance between self care and growth. It’s definitely a struggle for me. How about you? Do you understand and/or experience this?

Maybe there are seasons for these things. I’m unsure what they would be but hopefully it’s turning out Spring.