Not a lot to say here, other than…it’s been awhile.
I don’t really know.
I’ve actually come here to write several times in the past few months, but nothing happened. I have a few drafts saved that recount all my summer adventures, from my college friends’ visit in June to my July trip to visit my sister in Germany. But it all felt a little forced. Everything seemed to follow a steady pattern of “Thing A happened to me, and I learned Lesson B.” Even what I’m writing right now feels a little forced, but I’m chalking it up to transition and putting it out there anyway.
Last weekend, I was on a retreat in New Jersey and spent some time talking to friends I hadn’t had a meaningful chat with in awhile. One is a dancer who’s great at encouraging others in their artistic pursuits, and she asked me about writing. Had I been writing? My answer was no, and what struck me most about our brief conversation was that it made me realize…I didn’t even notice I wasn’t writing. I’ve actually done a decent job this year of journaling privately, and keeping track of articles/stories/movies/media I consume. But in terms of writing here on my blog, or sitting down to flesh out little story ideas that come into my mind? I haven’t made any time for that.
I wish I could say that conversation last weekend prompted me to create an intentional schedule where I carve out tons of time for writing and reflection. That’s not exactly the case. But it did put the thought in my mind. If this is purportedly so important to me, why am I not doing more of it? What do I want to write about? What stories do I want to tell? What’s happening in my story – my life in New York City, my relationships, my aspirations?
So, more to come. The next thing I post here could be an essay about four years in New York and that moment you realize you’re not “new” at this anymore…or it could be 1,000 words about how much I love Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. But it will be written, and right now, that’s what I find most important.