The Encore

May 25, 2013


Hello? Is this thing on?

After two silent years on the blog, I’m happy to say that I’m back.

A lot has happened in two years. Sarah and I bought our first house and we’re expecting a baby in August. I have two nieces now, my business is growing and moved into a new office, and speaking of offices, just last week the television series by the same name came to an end after nine wonderful seasons. Watching the finale was like saying goodbye to an old friend.

I’ve been writing in one fashion or another since I was very young. In elementary school I wrote a poem about my grandma watching Larry King Live, and Santa visiting our home only to send my brother screaming down the hallway in terror (he hated costumed figures). I never stop writing, but for some reason over the past few years my writing slowed to a crawl, and I never posted publicly. It was only recently that I discovered why.

I’m an introvert by nature, and it’s difficult sometimes for me to express my thoughts and feelings to people, especially those who I’m not very close to. I had this realization initially almost ten years ago, recognizing that it was difficult for me to let people know me for who I really was, and resolving to make an effort to put myself out there. I did for a while, writing like crazy throughout college, and then many things all happened that led to a bit of a backslide in the “sharing your heart” department.

After college I started my business, got married, and had much more responsibility, much more on my mind. I did not quit writing because I got busy, but because I got busy I forgot the importance of keeping my heart open, of making an effort to share myself with others. Over time this became less and less of a priority, until it began to feel odd to make myself vulnerable like that. In turn, my writing felt more dry, less passionate, and became less enjoyable to pursue.

Slowly, little by little, I locked my heart away again, where it would be safe, where I wouldn’t have to worry what people thought.

No more.

To write is good for me – it forces me to continually be willing to put myself out there, to be discontent with just observing the life happening around me. To see the world through the eyes of a writer again, where every occasion is an adventure, every conversation noteworthy, every day full of the potential for great and wonderful things.

And so, here we are, at the beginning of something exciting and new. Life is too short to spend any of it living as something other than yourself.

I’m back.

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