The last twelve months, I’ve felt the most unsettled that I ever have in my adult life. Selling our house, an internship in Chicago, a move North Carolina, and another [local] NC move, against a constant background of trying to finish my [damn] PhD and my parents’ [unsurprising, but no less bothersome] divorce has been a challenge. And to do it all in the midst of feeling disconnected from our support network in Tennessee has sucked.
When things are that tricky, it’s hard for me to write in this space, even though I do think writing helps me process and feeds me creatively, which I sorely miss when I’m having a hard time. I think of people that complain openly and frequently on Facebook and I so desperately don’t want to be that person that I don’t write here, where I really could and really need to. And something about calling the blog Inviting Joy got me stuck that I only should write when I’m finding joy–not just inviting it. I think I should give you, my readers, more credit. At least two of you have mentioned that you’ve missed seeing me here–messages of support that meant so much to me. And this blog isn’t Facebook, so here I am.
My cousin shared a link for a 30 day writing challenge, and when I saw the subheading “write yourself alive,” I couldn’t resist. I want to write myself alive. I’m going to write for an hour every morning, as I am in the midst of another transition: from employment to [f]unemployment/dissertating, which will hopefully result in the PhD finally being done FOREVER. I’ll share some of what I write and some of it I’ll keep private, but I want to publicly commit to this practice and thank you for reading.