I've neglected this space again. The hazy windows are cracked and the ivy is climbing through. A layer of dust has collected over everything, cobwebs trail from the corners. If you step through the creaking door, there is a scuffling of something small in the corner, perhaps looking for a lost crumb that has been left behind.
That's how I see my blog right now. Empty. Vacant. Forgotten. Forlorn.
The truth is I'm not sure what to make of this space right now. It doesn't know what it wants to be and I hate to keep reinventing over and over as it makes me feel even more like the scatterbrain that I already know I am.
I'm tired of trying on personas that don't quite fit.
I'm tired of trying to think of ways to market to make something of myself.
I'm tired of giving up before I even get started.
And I'm terrified of making wrong decisions.
Hence the fits of starts and stops.
I'm discerning this year.
So many calls.
Which one is the right one?
Start. Stop. Start.
I know the end. I can picture it in my mind.
But how to get there?
Especially since it is a road less traveled,
a road that thins out the closer I draw near
to the photo in my mind of pure happiness.
Perhaps that is the key.
Perhaps this place, this blog of mine
needs to be that picture in my mind.
Perhaps I need to see This Quiet House
as I have described it here.
Except to sweep out the dust and the cobwebs.
To open the windows, chase out the birds
that are living in the shadows
and let life breathe into it again.
