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I’m back.

It’s been 18 months since I’ve posted a blog. I’ll explain why, but first I want to share a recent accomplishment.

Two journals

The journal with the birds on it is full. Every page has words on it. The peacock one is its successor. I have written every morning for 54 days.

I’ve gone through a pattern with every journal I’ve owned, until now. There are 5 phases. For the sake of alliteration, they all start with G:

  • Gusto! I write my first entry in my best penmanship, announcing my enthusiasm and intentions for the new journal.
  • Grind. I diligently write for a few days, each entry shorter and less interesting than the last.
  • Gap. Days or weeks go by without an entry.
  • Guilt. I write a litany of excuses for why I haven’t written in a while, framed as an apology to the journal. I promise to do better.
  • Ghosting. I leave the last two-thirds of the journal empty because time passed again, it felt like too long, and now I’m too ashamed to return to it. I am also too ashamed to throw it away, so my house is full of ghost journals from past versions of me. (It’s a little creepy, when I think of it that way.)

With 18 months since my last entry, this blog nearly became a ghost journal. I can explain.

In July 2019, a couple weeks after I wrote a post about LinkedIn (part of a career pivot I have since pivoted away from), my mom died. I found words to write her obituary and dozens of thank you cards to people who loved her. I struggled to find words to continue working on the novel she inspired me to write. I had no words for my blog.

The only way out of grief is through it, and I moved forward. 2020 was going to be my year. I started a shiny new job. I took guitar lessons and joined a mom rock band. I adopted a puppy. Then, of course, the pandemic hit. I am among the lucky ones: safe, healthy, working from home. I still couldn’t find words for my blog. My ideas felt trite or self-indulgent. The world felt sad and scary. Health issues and surgery knocked me out at the end of the year, and I spent December healing, physically and emotionally.

There’s a feeling, common in a Minnesota winter, when you see the sun for the first time and realize it’s been cloudy for weeks. The sky is dazzling blue and glorious. Only upon its return do you feel how deeply you missed its absence.

That’s where I am, friends. I found my words, and I realized how much I missed them. I love writing and sharing with readers.

In January, I adopted a habit of writing 3 pages in a journal (per the book The Artist’s Way). I supported my new habit with behavioral science techniques which I can’t wait to tell you about. There are so many stories I want to tell you. I want to tell you about my dog, my kids transitioning to high school and middle school, what I love and hate about Zoom calls and working from home. I want to tell you old stories about my family and new stories about the adventures that lie ahead.

This blog has gaps, but I refuse to let it become a ghost journal. I started it 15 years ago on MySpace, and brought those early awkward entries into my rebrands as Bridge Over Bottled Water and Shiny Social Media. I like looking back and seeing how much I have grown as a writer and a person. I will rebrand my website again, but first I wanted to break my silence and tell you that I’m back. I found my words, and I can’t wait to share them with you. Thank you for reading.