Collecting Myself

I've come to the conclusion that I've had some sort of mental block for around almost nine months now. Every time I'd sit down to write I could never collect my thoughts or didn't really feel as if what I had to say was important enough to share. Some days, more often than not, everything just seemed too hectic to justify allowing myself the time to write. I felt selfish for trying to carve out 30 minutes to collect my thoughts on a page when I knew the house was dirty, the girls needed help on homework and there were an endless number of other things that I owed my time to. 

I realize that the words I write may seem trivial to many. I often focus too much on those tiny moments of life that merely make up our day to day schedules. I get a little too happy about things like making pie crust and cupcakes, about the way the light falls on the world right before sunset. The things I've always written about may no doubt be a bit annoying or boring to others and occasionally I feel it a bit conceited to send those thoughts out into the world and a bit presumptuous to think someone else might want to read them. 

This morning as I went through the motions of scrambling to get out the door and to where we were going on time, as I drove to town and only half listened to the songs playing on the radio, one phrase of a Pink song came through the fog that seems to have surrounded me for all these months. "When you're out there doing what you're doing, are you just getting by?" That line has rattled back and forth in my brain for the past few hours until now when I decided that I needed to take a moment to really think about it and why it's still in my head at all.

All these months, through summer and fall and winter holidays and now almost to spring I've just been going through the motions. I've allowed worry over so many things going on around me and happening to others I know and acceptance of things that I cannot change to make a shell around me that has me no longer listening or seeing or experiencing the life I'm living.

The problem with going through those motions without taking any time for myself, to pay attention to all those little things I find important,  I realize is that I was slowly slipping away. All those details that I cherish that others might find annoying are really what makes me, me. Those few moments that I collected my thoughts on paper I was really collecting myself. I'm thinking that you have be just as proactive in keeping up yourself as you do in keeping up all the others in your life that you love otherwise what's left is someone that those loved ones and you aren't going to like very much.

So while I still feel a tad bit foggy I think at least this is a start and as that song I spoke of earlier goes on to say at least I've got to try. That said, hello again. This will be the first of what I hope are many strange observations and ramblings about all the little things I find joy in. I hope you find some of them joyful too.

Amy Morgeson

Covert Chickens