I promised my adviser I’d keep writing. I promised my husband. I promised my mother.
That was two years ago. I haven’t written anything new. Not even the famed annual Christmas Letter. Absolutely no writing for me. Well, unless you count academic papers for grad school or the emails to teachers, parents, admin, probation, therapists… the usual demands of my job as an English teacher at an alternative school.
And now, I’ve foolishly gone and signed up for a grad class that focuses on publishing non fiction. I need to get the juices flowing before class starts. I need to get back into the habit of writing! I need an excuse to write!
My little sisters complained I don’t blog anymore. They mentioned it’s fun for them to read about the shenanigans my kids are up to. A reader of my former blog told me she missed reading my spiritual (mis)direction and Catholic enthusiasm. I have a few messages as Facebook asking to bring back my blog, or to at least make it active to they can re-read.
Re-reading. That’s where writing takes me most days. It gives me a chance to re-read where I was during whatever season of my life I was writing. Blogging has proven to be an outlet to sort my thoughts, but also a place to capture those mundane moments of life that later will be the ones I struggle to remember. I want my kids, when they have kids of their own, to look back at this blog and realize- the good, the bad, the chaotic, the enchanted, the heavenly- we’ve all been through that season before. This is a place to capture the moment, the rant, the enlightenment…in case I forgot to tell you.