No.
It comes from a place of silence within the walls of my mind. A true, deep acceptance of what is, in this very moment. I have nothing to share.
My whole life, I have had a constant babbling. If I answered "nothing", to the question "what are you thinking?", it was a lie. Images and words, thoughts and pictures, have swirled together in a non-stop kaleidoscope since my earliest memories.
This new-found phenomenon of painting my head into silence is fantastic. It's become my newest addiction, and unlike most addictions with me, I don't see a future that kicks it.
My whole life, I have had a constant babbling. If I answered "nothing", to the question "what are you thinking?", it was a lie. Images and words, thoughts and pictures, have swirled together in a non-stop kaleidoscope since my earliest memories.
This new-found phenomenon of painting my head into silence is fantastic. It's become my newest addiction, and unlike most addictions with me, I don't see a future that kicks it.
I miss certain people, the ones who have moved on. I don't hear laughter over my fence when I sit and smoke. I can't walk down the street and sit in the presence of unfound royalty. I'd love to Grammy-slave my winter away, but that comes with the cost of missing my children. I have almost forgotten the excitement of checking my mail. These things have come to pass.
My minds eye sees nothing but colour on canvas.
This is when I hibernate.
So then, why blog?
Well, I'm blogging because this is very monumental for me. To have nothing worth saying is a 35 year road-mark. To be okay and accepting of what is, no tension, no guilt, no regrets. To watch those around me move on, and in no way feel angst or anxiety. To release what I've held so dearly without even a twinge of remorse. To spend hours upon hours with nothing on my mind but colour and stroke.
I'm challenging my reality. I'm in open debate with what peace and prosperity actually means. I'm allowing eternity to be right now, not tomorrow or next week, but this very second. And it's beautifully liberating.
Those who matter, come into my plane of vision. I light up when I get a message. I think of them when another layer of colour splashes onto my canvas. I pause to smile when something reminds me of them. I take time for a coffee, an email, a visit, a chat. I love my people. Those who do not, well....they just don't. They don't bother me, and I don't bother with them. No struggle, no anger or victimization going on. Just warm winter wishes and dismissal.
I believe many of my stories have ended. The guilt I've been carrying has finally reared it's head for the last time. I don't know for sure, but that is what I would like to believe any way. I am thankful for the quiet, and as much as I have hibernated in the past, I actually look forward to this one. I think this year, it will be a different kind. Maybe I will paint the walls of my den instead of pacing the floor. Maybe I will enjoy the slumber instead of gritting my teeth at my immobility. I sure hope so. All I know for sure is I am truly thankful for each and every minute.
So then, why blog?
Well, I'm blogging because this is very monumental for me. To have nothing worth saying is a 35 year road-mark. To be okay and accepting of what is, no tension, no guilt, no regrets. To watch those around me move on, and in no way feel angst or anxiety. To release what I've held so dearly without even a twinge of remorse. To spend hours upon hours with nothing on my mind but colour and stroke.
I'm challenging my reality. I'm in open debate with what peace and prosperity actually means. I'm allowing eternity to be right now, not tomorrow or next week, but this very second. And it's beautifully liberating.
Those who matter, come into my plane of vision. I light up when I get a message. I think of them when another layer of colour splashes onto my canvas. I pause to smile when something reminds me of them. I take time for a coffee, an email, a visit, a chat. I love my people. Those who do not, well....they just don't. They don't bother me, and I don't bother with them. No struggle, no anger or victimization going on. Just warm winter wishes and dismissal.
I believe many of my stories have ended. The guilt I've been carrying has finally reared it's head for the last time. I don't know for sure, but that is what I would like to believe any way. I am thankful for the quiet, and as much as I have hibernated in the past, I actually look forward to this one. I think this year, it will be a different kind. Maybe I will paint the walls of my den instead of pacing the floor. Maybe I will enjoy the slumber instead of gritting my teeth at my immobility. I sure hope so. All I know for sure is I am truly thankful for each and every minute.
