impulse

Well, I can't help wondering if this will crash from the shock of my being here once more. I was noodling around trying to find information about growing alliums from harvested seeds when I happened upon someone's blog. One thing -- or link -- led to another and here I am.

How to account for a nearly two year absence?

I started this blog as a creative outlet. A place for musing. A place to think out loud. But two years in my life had changed, in part as a result of my mother's death. They say that the second year following a death or major loss is often more difficult. The numbness has worn off and, in my case, the realization that this indeed was my new reality had set in. Life and I had gone on together, but I meant no disrespect when I'd say that the novelty (of those changes) had worn off. Life, loss and vacant spaces had come home to me as permanent, immutable truths. That will get your attention. No kidding.

So while I thought a lot, observed even more, and considered jotting something here now and then, for the most part my focus was elsewhere. Creating a new home and cultivating a wonderfully blank back yard became my outlets, my passions. I was less inclined to write about life than to live my own -- to reinvest in it. And over time vacant spaces were revitalized -- old memories kept, new ones made.

I can come back now without apology. I'd come to feel obligated to uphold an implicit bargain here, but no more. I needed to attend to myself, to go within unselfconsciously, and to explore and express myself non-verbally for a while. So I can say that it feels good to be typing here today without the burden of responsibility. That's what I wanted all along.

No promises, and thanks for waiting.