Hello Again, Little Blog

I watched a movie this afternoon, somewhat guiltily, I must confess. I should have spent the time in more productive pursuits, but the movie made me weep, and I found that I needed the tears. More than that, I welcomed the emotion and the resulting desire to somehow frame that emotion in images and words.

I write for a living. For hours each day, I sit at my desk in my upstairs office and bleed words onto the screen. I have discovered a certain mastery of the art of sounding knowledgeable about topics that actually interest me very little.

And yet, for all of the writing I do, I express very little. And as a woman of a certain age, caught up in a chaotic and bizarre dance of hormones, I desperately need expression. I need to explore how I feel about marriage at a crossroads, about watching my parents fade away and knowing with terrible certainty that dementia will find its way to my own door, as well.

I have always found myself through words. The syllables and phrases allow me to frame the world around me and make it my own. Perhaps writing gives me a sense of control. More likely, since control is illusive at best, writing strikes a deeper chord that might just awaken my sense of self after its little mid-life nap.

And so, I find my way back to a neglected blog. My chocolate moonrise has been waiting patiently for me to put aside my disdain of mommy bloggers and posers and simply write for the sake of writing. Hello again, little blog. I've missed you.