It’s been over a year since I left Facebook and stopped blogging. There were a lot of reasons for this – some really healthy. As a person with generalized anxiety, I was able to notice that time spent scrolling Facebook really increased my experience of panic. In addition, we were deep in the throws of welcoming our third baby and evolving into a completely different experience and expression of our family. I also started believing that my voice wasn’t trustworthy, that my voice didn’t matter very much, and that it was not worth the relational cost of sharing. This is what I am standing against in starting again.
That all being said, I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been writing here on the blog, and I haven’t been writing for myself. It feels like there is something missing for me – a discipline of sharing, of expressing, of engaging in what has become my experience of art.
So we are going to try again. I am going to try to share about what gives me life, what I am learning as a therapist, and what I am learning as mother. I hope that as I share my experiences of pain and learn to allow myself to feel, something I have struggled hard against and will talk about more soon, that it might give you some permission to experience, feel, struggle, and dream along with me. I hope it encourages you that your voice matters as well.
Rumi tells us that the wound is where the light enters us. I feel like I have patched up the cracks so ardently that the light has no way to squeeze in, and I have no way to get out. Here’s to chipping it away and allowing myself to be right where I am.
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