Sometimes I can be really dense. I met my sister for breakfast a few weeks ago and we had a wonderful and wide-ranging conversation about careers, family, health, money, choices and what's really important to us in life. I left the cafe very full and very energized.
The next day, I got up and lived my life like nothing had changed. Such a shame. We've been really busy, you see. I've been working hard on a new initiative at work and Hannah's been working long hours at her job as well as preparing for her next stage. After hours, we have been house hunting, a process which I've only recently come to realize closely resembles those other rituals of dating and job hunting.
We've gone on lots of bad "blind dates" -- you know, where the realtor or a friend or family member that is only trying to help, suggests a house that sounds just perfect. We agree, make plans to see it and soon discover that it has, well, umm, a nice personality?
So then two weeks ago, we fell in love with a house -- or nearly did. This house had the perfect floor plan, large rooms, plenty of closet space, an indoor laundry room and a patio to watch sunsets over an open field. Paradise, except it was across town and the commute patterns would have slowly driven us mad.
Then last weekend, we did fall in love. I saw the pictures online on Friday morning and it looked really cute inside and out. We called our realtor to see it first thing on Saturday morning. As the day wore on, I got increasingly excited and got the latest mortgage rates in case we made an offer the next day. Hannah was excited and even my mom was getting excited. This could be the one! We toured it, liked the curb appeal, loved the open entertaining kitchen, vaulted ceilings, large and private yard -- nearly everything was perfect. Except that someone else had just made an offer. We suddenly felt "dumped on" as my friend Emilie would say.
It's kinda embarrassing but true: we all felt shafted, let down somehow. I spent the better part of the afternoon rearranging my bookshelf to cope. My mom didn't sleep well that night.
And then it hit me. My sister and I had been having an email exchange while she was traveling on business and I'd expressed how frustrated I was getting with my life -- feeling like we were stuck in a holding pattern, never having enough time, not seeing friends, etc. Her response hit me like a ton of bricks: "Fix it." If you don't like your life, do something about it.
Exactly.
...
Thursday night, I met up with an old friend after work for drinks. Emilie and I have known each other since high school and it was really nice to reconnect.
Friday I did something I haven't done in a long time: I took a few minutes to read blogs. I only read three, but each really moved me. Reading about Jason Kottke's recent decision to blog full-time, Jennifer Rice's reflections on blogging and some very candid posts by Ali, as well a post on the power of words, reminded just why it was I started blogging in the first place so long ago. To connect. To share. To contribute. To learn. To write.
The combination of time constraints and heightened privacy concerns have conspired to rob me of an activity that has been integral to who I am since 1995. No more.
What does this mean exactly? I'm not sure, honestly. It doesn't mean that this will suddenly become a tell-all personal journal. What I do know is that I am going to make it more of a priority to write about things that matter to me.
I welcome you to join me in this conversation. Post a comment. Start your own blog. E-mail me. Connect.