A month has nearly passed me by without so much as a peep from me on my blog. I have not missed a month since I started this blog in the summer 2010 as a journal of sorts for reflecting on my life during a PhD program in Sustainability Education.
Here it is now six years later, and I continue to write.
Why?
I write because I have to write. I am a writer. If I don’t write, I feel unsettled, like something is missing.
I write because it helps me to make sense of my world, finding understanding in the seemingly simple act of putting words to a once blank page.
I write because I have the sense that I a not alone with those things I struggle with most in life.
I write to become a better writer, but mostly, I write to write.
Lately, limbo seems to have become an ever-present echo. I think it is less that limbo is there and more than I am beginning to appreciate and attempt to embrace the fact that life is unpredictable.
A being I love, be it canine, cottonwood, or other, may be here one day and gone the next.
Any day, my husband and I could get the word that we are bound for France…or otherwise.
How do I deal with limbo?
I write.
I play music.
I continue a six-year stint of “spring cleaning” that has become never-ending.
I vacuum, mostly because it gives me a sense of renewal, like starting over. It is an effort that reaps tangible results, which gives me a sense of accomplishment. Also, I hate the way cat litter has an insidious way of spreading itself through the far reaches of my Arizona home.
As I write, my husband is outside with a chainsaw, clearing away dead tree limbs.
The chainsaw is my vacuum, he told me earlier today, and I totally get it. When you feel like you are at a loss for control in your life, why not do something where you have some element of control?
What do you do when you are not sure what happens next?
life of m 