October, though normally my favorite month of the year, turned out to be a rather weird one for me. And mostly because I allowed myself to become complacent. Even though Bastian had already been around for a whole month this time last year I was still unfamiliar with the landscape. It was as if there was no transition of seasons last year and this time it threw me for a loop. What would October look like as a mother?
Really, really different, that's for sure. Not bad. Just
very different.
Something about the experience felt, I don't know, private. I wasn't up for writing for an audience. But instead of simply taking a hiatus from blogging I stopped. Writing, that is. Stopped doing the thing that had been fueling me this whole past year... and surprise, surprise I eventually ran out of steam.
So I am back. Out of practice, again, but back. To my home at the keyboard. To my daily checklists and miscellaneous goals. Back to processing and documenting my experiences rather than letting them whiz by only to be forgotten by the next day. For it is in my nature to live this way. When I am not using words to aid in digesting my input things become hazy, and I suspect I am not the best version of myself to be around.
So for that I am sorry.
Sorry, also, to myself for momentarily forgetting what it is that makes me go. Makes me moves forward. Change. Become more and more authentic with the passage of time. What makes me, me.
