For a long time, I’ve meant to start writing a blog again, but I keep waiting for better timing. I convince myself that I need longer periods of extended, undisturbed silence if I’m going to write anything.
In summer, there’s too much fun family stuff going on to allow me sufficient time to focus, and on workday mornings I am plagued by the incessant ticking of the clock as it counts down my departure time. I keep waiting for a perfect—or even comfortable—writing scenario to materialize before I get started.
But I think I have finally accepted that this isn’t going to happen. My life isn’t the way it used to be, and if I want to do this blog, then I am going to have to adjust to a new reality. So here I am, adjusting.
Today, I’m four hours from home, in the big city, sitting at my daughter’s dining room table with my bright, curious, exuberant granddaughter sitting across from me. (And I’m super happy that I’ll be doing this for most of the summer!) At the moment, she and I are both focused on writing in our different ways—me on this laptop and she in her planner-journal.
It’s quiet now, but I’m distracted by the certain knowledge that I will be interrupted again and again by the rhythmic tapping of her pencil on the table, by her feet kicking the chair, and by her incessant, cheerful questions and ideas. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
It’s a beautiful morning. The sky is clear blue, the sun is shining, and a cold wind isn’t howling ferociously out of the north like it would be if I was back home on the coast. I’m sipping coffee and enjoying this pleasant morning with a granddaughter I love. I am so happy to be able to be here for these weeks that I will gladly accept whatever distractions this brings!
The fact is that I’m just going to have to buckle down and start this blog even while the circumstances for typing out coherent thoughts don’t meet my ideal criteria. I think I’ve finally realized that If I don’t do it now, it will never happen. A lot of life is like that.
So, here I go.