Tonight, Chris told me that he misses my blog. Totally out of the blue he said this while I was making enchiladas. He said he misses reading raw, honest writing. As I was pouring the sauce over the enchiladas I thought about it and I said to myself, yeah, I miss my blog too. That was two hours ago and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
There are reasons I haven’t written lately. Legit reasons. Like Trump. Don’t worry, this will not be all about him. When he was elected it sucked the ambition and creativity right out of me as if it were a physical phenomenon. I texted an old friend today who I haven’t spoken to in a year. He was ranting about Trump. Like, my text was filled with a 500-word essay on how much he hates him. I get it, I really do, but I told him he needs to stop talking about how much he hates Trump because it is affecting his very personality – that amazing person he is. I choose not to watch Trump or read anything he says for fear I will turn into this friend of mine.
That being said, I will admit that Trump’s presidency has affected my writing. I told this friend that this was the last thing I wrote back in January. I will not ever let anyone delegitimize what Trump has done to the millions of people in this country because it is real and it is hard to take. But I also feel ashamed, like I have let him win. But the truth is, he is only one reason I haven’t written my blog.
The other reason is that I have too much to say. You know how you have that old great amazing awesome friend whom you haven’t spoken to for years? You really want to speak to that incredible friend but you just don’t know how to talk on the phone anymore (thanks a lot, text) and you don’t know how you could possibly have time to fit all the things you want to say into a phone call? Well, this is how I feel about my current blogging situation.
So much has happened in the last three months that I don’t even know where to start and I know it hasn’t ended. Telling the story feels daunting and incredible and exciting and sad and everything life is supposed to be. Everything I ever wanted. Everything I asked for. With some things I didn’t ask for sprinkled in.
So, I decided I will start here with this. Just a tidbit. And if I can summons up enough inspiration I will keep going.
The last three months my family has lived a nomadic life. Perhaps nomadic isn’t altogether honest since the true definition of the word means you are wandering aimlessly and without a fixed pattern. Our nomadic nature is very planned and purposeful, yet we have lived in three different homes that don’t belong to us, in three months.
It all started back in March this year. It began with a trip to San Diego. That trip changed the entire path of our lives. It is so interesting the way life works. In the words of the Grateful Dead, what a long strange trip it’s been.
That is all I will tell you for now.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.