Every day for the past month I have this moment where I think of this space and my lack of writing. I look at my list of house projects in the line up to share and see my files of edited photographs just sitting on my desktop, just waiting to be added to my drafts and a click away from sharing and pinning. But then I shut the laptop lid, walk out of my office, and then repeat the next day. This cycle almost continued today, but then I finally felt it. After reading a post by my friend
Anne and then another by
Natalie, both brave and raw and truly vulnerable--it caught up with me That little pull on my heart to sit, write, and be real.
Why I love the outdoors so much in our neighborhood.
I was telling Anne the other day that I just have no motivation to write and come to this place. I have no ounce in me to stay inside with a laptop as my view. I want mountains, and sunshine, and the pool! I want snuggles on the couch, camping, and crafting with friends! I want long summer nights, BBQs after work, and freshly painted walls! I just want to be anywhere doing anything except for blogging. It's just where I'm at, even though I really would love to say otherwise.
Now I treasure this place, I really really do, but lately I'm in a whole new world entirely. Ever since our trip to
New York, everything has been at full speed. We bought a house. We moved to a new town. We left our community and our church. I quit my job. I stared a new job. I began working some weekends, with a new schedule, and a new commute. Matt's role at work changed. We've had out of town guests. I began swimming with a masters team, with practice, and discipline. We experienced hail damage and house repairs. We've built new friendships and worked hard to keep old ones. And on top of it all, marriage has been a place of learning, growing, and grace.
Hail damage and settling into our new home.
With change comes adjusting, and I think its safe to write that I'm still in that phase. We're figuring it all out, or at least the parts we can, and learning how to give up the parts we cannot. If anything, buying a house has been the best thing for our marriage. It's brought out core anxieties, our strengths and weaknesses, and a true necessity to rely on the Lord (especially so with weather like hail). This has probably been some of the hardest yet most gratifying six months of my adult life. Matt and I have made big decisions, life changing ones, and it is a bit overwhelming when I really reflect on everything that has been in our lives since the new year. Changing jobs has been another true blessing. I never realized how much happiness I was missing in that part of my life. I'm learning more about myself and who I am than I have in a long time. The same is true for swimming. I'm finding out how easy it is to slack and not be disciplined, and that it takes hard work to focus time and energy on a goal.
Where I find myself the most fulfilled: in the pool and with friends
So with all of this said (and this being the very short version of six months that have gone by), I'm at this crossroads in my life where I'm navigating how to spend my time. How delicate the balance really is. Time is truly precious, you know? I am learning how to hold on to all of these new things in my life, give myself to them fully, but yet still find a place for writing and blogging. I will get there, I have full confidence. I hope you too might close the laptop, walk out of your office, and seek the long days that are left of summer.
Thank you for hanging tight and trusting that I didn't just disappear amidst blog silence. And thank you, Anne and Natalie, for being so brave and open to write and be real today. Your vulnerability truly encouraged me.
