That's right friends. After being MIA for, hmm,
way too long, I'm back. And ready for more. I could go on and on updating you on my latest adventures, but now that I work a normal eight to five job like most ordinary people, well, there isn't that much to tell you unless you want to hear about the watered down coffee or my latest paper cut (it was pretty gnarly if I do say so myself). I'll admit, however—in my own defense—that my lack of posting for the past few months is only a reflection of love/hate (okay, there wasn't much love there at all) relationship I built with my computer during the dreaded job search. But now that I'm not spending hours writing cover letters every day or impatiently waiting for rejection emails (or those "Thank you but no thank you" emails that never come at all), I can actually sit down with my computer and enjoy her company again. Granted, I sit at a computer all day at work, but it's a Dell so coming home to my Mac makes me feel pretty damn special (and spoiled).
I have to admit, I've thought about this blog every day since I stopped writing (except those few days during Coachella that merely exist as a hazy memory of fun, sun, skip and go naked's, and dancing... oh yeah, and some life changing live music). I've been wanting to write, willing myself to write, but my voice stayed trapped behind a cement wall that just wasn't budging. I even thought that maybe this blog would turn into some sort of forgotten shrine of my time in Switzerland and the few months following my return.
But then today came along. Without anything to do at work and my patience for webinars dwindled at best, I went to one of my favorite websites:
yogajournal.com. I perused the newer articles and let my mind wander to asanas and how great my tight hips would feel to bust into half moon right there in my cubicle.
That's when I came across an article that had me so mesmerized and enthralled that all I could thinking about was how much I wanted to write again. Somehow over the last couple months, I lost touch with that voice that keeps everything alive and interesting around me. In my world, writing gets me to the heart of things, the meat of meaning, but not just of what topic I may be writing or thinking about. It gets me to the heart of myself and allows me to access this world of thought and curiosity and strength that brings an entirely new perspective to everything else that I consider and observe. It makes me feel like myself again—finally.
At the risk of getting too mushy, I won't dwell on the day's epiphany or my love affair with words—at least not right now. Instead I will leave you with a piece of advice from Sally Kempton, a contributing writer to Yoga Journal and author of her own book
The Heart of Meditation. She says,
"There is nothing more radical than the moment you realize that it's possible to reinvent your life."
Today, I reinvent myself through writing, and through rediscovering that mindful process that brings me back to one of the deepest commitments I make to myself. Maybe it doesn't sound like much, but if you have the chance to reinvent even the most minute aspect of your life (and yourself), it has to mean something. To me it does. In fact, it may just mean the world.
With love (and more to come),
Mel
