It's Been a Minute

Hello again from the blog that took a pause. 

Writing has been personal for me since the pandemic began last year. It's been a bit like the ancient days of unlocking the mystical teenage diary and scribbling in screams instead of peace, love, and blue jeans. 

Words come in spurts and fits. No cohesion or unity. 

And then I lock it back down again with my little gold key.

But perhaps that is perfection in a pandemic world.

The ride has been jolting, hasn't it? Instead of a roller-coaster it's been more like sudden stops and emergency braking for deaths and miracles all in the span of a day - except the day never ends.

 Emotional whiplash. Physical inertia.

 Soul-searching salvation.

Yes, that too.

I won't say that I now see that light at the end of the tunnel - it's such a tired phrase. 

The Light has always been there. We tend to forget that the light made its way through the darkness to the end before we even entered the tunnel. We're not supposed to reach for and steal its strength: we're supposed to find our own along the way. I see remaining slivers of illumination cascading from crevices in the tunnel wall. That is what I reach for. They stop me in my tracks - reminding me that the end game is never the peace we seek at the conclusion of our journey. It's all the places and spaces we've seen on the road that matter as much. 

It's how much light of our own we left in the tunnel. 

How much peace we leave for others determines how much peace we find.

That's why the Light at the end is so brilliant.

I hope you and your loved ones are doing well. 

Let me hear from you. I want to know how you're doing. 

Much love from Bloggingham

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