It started with my post about boundaries. Writing that post left me feeling so unsettled and uncomfortable that I knew something was up inside of me. Last night I figured it out, and then I cried myself to sleep.
You see, there's been this force moving around inside of me, first like a loose lump of knotted thread and now sometimes like an ocean rolling deep into the night. Last night I recognized it for what it is. It's a voice inside of me, but I can't hear what it's saying. I need to write and find it, but it's not the kind of writing that I want to do here. I am embarassed to write about this because I don't mean to sound all "artsy fartsy" and "I am a writer"-ish. It's just that no matter how much I love you all, this blog will never be a place without boundaries for me and I really want to understand this voice of mine.
So last night, I imagined my life without my blog, a life where I would have time for more private writing, writing just for me, with no boundaries. I saw it and realized I wanted it. I REALLY wanted it.
And then I cried.
For you. For Raehan. For this space. For all these loves of mine.
I am going to leave this post up top as a sticky post, but I'm going to spend another week or so here on this blog, writing my heart out about my girls, like I did when I started this gig. You'll find new posts cropping up below this post. I want to capture my girls, bottle them up, in this glorious summer that we're having together. And then on my last day (and you'll know when it comes cause I'll say good-bye), I will write my heart out about me. And I will close the museum, for a long time, perhaps forever. But I'll still be hanging around the neighborhood. And I will send periodic updates for those who leave e-mail addresses.
Thank you, friends. If love is touching souls, then I love you.
Tears. I have tears, as Rachel used to say.
(And what do you know, I have no idea how to do a sticky post on blogger and my browser isn't letting me fiddle with the time-stamp.)