Somedays I feel like I have nothing to say. I don’t mean “I have nothing to say and nothing to offer the world” – it’s more “I could say something, but why?”
Somedays I have tons to say; provoking reflections, challenging observations, hilarious stories, witty retorts. Other days I just want silence; stillness. Somedays I want rest from the striving and the proving that makes up so much of my “ambition”.
Somedays everything matters. Somedays nothing matters.
I like it this way. I like the ebbing and flowing of life’s rhythms. I like not feeling the same way every day. I like that each day, for me, is painted with a different colour. It keeps me open. It keeps me guessing. It teaches me that I don’t have life nailed down. None of us have life nailed down, but it’s easy to lose sight of that. And once we lose sight of it we cease growing. I am not right as often as I think I am. I’m okay with that. I need to remember that I’m okay with it.
I have no idea what I’m talking about… and that’s okay.
Somedays I make sense. Somedays I just write because I haven’t in a while and don’t want you to go away and leave me all alone.