A STEP FORWARD
I’ve allowed my blog website to go stale during the last three years. I found no desire or comfort by keeping it current. I quit following all those individual bloggers that inspired me, and I aspired to be one of them. I didn’t delete the links to my favorite writers, but their connections to me were lost in my absence.
Perhaps I should feel ashamed, but I’m not. Individuals who know me might say the absenteeism was justifiable. It doesn’t matter. I often wanted to return to what previously had been motivating and therapeutic. With any of my attempts, all I found was the blank screen. It’s an experience most writers have.
Although I abandoned my blog site, I continued writing. When I first joined the writing group, they assisted me in rewriting my first book, One Month, Twenty Days, and a Wake-Up. I released the second edition in July 2020. Currently, I’m working on my first attempt at writing fiction. Please watch for further discussion and announcements on its release.
I thought my desire for the world of blogging would return once my mourning ended. But my sadness hasn’t ended. What I’ve learned, there is no end to our grief. We don’t stop loving those we have lost, so why would we stop grieving for them. We don’t.
I quickly learned that there was no going back to my life before. How could I, the most important ingredient from my previous life, no longer exists? It became apparent either stay stuck in the past or move forward to a new beginning. When I finally accepted that I could escape the doom and gloom by moving forward, the decision was easy.
In theory, it all sounded so simple. But the process took me down a road containing twists, turns, and some potholes. Frequently, I found that the change in direction led me to an unfamiliar route. I wondered if I had turned in the wrong direction. I stopped to recall my previous life also came with risk. But it also led to happiness. Recalling those decisions, I followed my instinct as I had in the past.
Looking at where I am today and recalling where I was a year ago gives me hope. I haven’t arrived at my new destination, but I’m confident I’m traveling in the right direction. One brutal reality, you sometimes must give up something or someone. Friends where you no longer have things in common, you turn away from them. Activities, once important, no longer satisfy you.
My late husband and I were avid golfers and often played two or three times a week. Since he died three years ago, I haven’t played golf. Several of our friends with whom we golfed; I no longer see.
As I begin my new life journey, I make new friends and have different interests. I’ve joined a writer’s critique group, and my social activity with my church has expanded. In the beginning, I found it difficult, but I am now dating. When I was younger, I looked for a life partner. Now, I look for companionship.
I frequently become impatient with myself. I’ll be so glad when this pandemic is over so I can begin my new life. What I keep forgetting, I have started my new life. My everyday routine is nothing as before. My social life now includes new individuals and doing different activities. My involvement has changed with previous functions that I still attend; sometimes more, sometimes less.
I’m not so brazen to believe my new beginning won’t come with problems. It didn’t before, so why would it be different now. But, because I’m a stronger person from experiencing the loss of my spouse, I’m somewhat wiser, and decisions should come easier. I find to follow these Cardinal Rules of Life makes it manageable.
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