Diaries


I never think I am authentic when I write here although I probably am. I read the blogs of others and it seems others have more profound or more interesting things to say or impart and here I am…being who I am. I am not altogether certain who I am completely but perhaps that is true for everyone. I dream dreams of how life could be or should be and in my dreams there is beauty and visions of what life would be like if I took different paths or dared to do what I dream of doing. I have been so far in my imagination and not nearly far enough in reality. Perhaps reality is my dreams and this three dimensional existence a pale representation of reality.

What I dream of doing is making a living writing, so here I am, plying my skill, grateful for those who read. I am a woman who has travelled far geographically, spiritually and maturity-wise yet my growth is never finished. It is enough to embrace that knowledge and not become too full of oneself. I do not know as much as I think I do. I have quieted down and learned to listen more and talk less.

I have loved deeply and now I mend. I return at last from the long going out.

I feel as Bilbo Baggins did after returning home from his long journey where he had many adventures and sadnesses and joys and found everything forever changed, but yet the same. It was he who had changed of course, as have I. Another journey will begin at home with the life I lead there. I find comfort in not straying too far from home this time. I hope to find a love to call my own.

It is time to be still and to be seen. One is invisible if one is always in perpetual motion. I want to be caught. I want to make a home. In one place. With one person. I have waited 30 years. I am ready. It is time.

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