I have all these little scraps of paper, probably about 20 or more of them now, upon which I’ve jotted down ideas for blog entries. Some are witty, some wry, others uplifting and a few just run of the mill conversational. The thing is, not a single one has come to fruition in forever and I’m trying to figure out how to juggle this section of my life, within my new life.
I have a private journal, which thankfully I’ve kept current but here in liquidjill land it’s all so much more complicated. With content that anyone and everyone is privy to I find always myself writing with that in mind. How do I want my former/current employers to perceive me? How about my parents? My long lost friends that now follow me on Facebook ? Every one of them gets taken into account as I write and it affects the content, flow and pace of everything I express.
There is also this whole wacky social life thing.
In the longest and darkest days of winter I consoled myself with 3 basic things: my job, working out and writing. I would do a little cooking, and sometimes I’d take a book to a coffee shop but my stove didn’t work for months and the coffee shop was kind of a schlep and it all resulted in long, lonely and difficult nights that stretched out into months. Blogging helped and my real work flourished but internally it was difficult not to wonder if this move to ny was in some ways a huge mistake.
Then, after months of dormancy, repetition and let’s face it, boredom – everything changed. Within the space of about a month, and in concert with the birth of spring I began to make friends. The friends became circles and the circles multiplied. Within each one particularly special people emerged whom have become incredibly close and important to me. Within that month, what was lacking for so very long finally regained meaning and it has been exhilarating. One can not ever really appreciate true comradery without first feeling true loneliness. I can say with confidence that I’ve now met each one quite intimately.
I barely have time for laundry. My workouts, which at once point were occurring 6 days a week have been regulated to 3. I’m doing what I can to accommodate basic shopping and upkeep at my apartment but it’s tough and I’ve found myself leaving a dish or two in the sink – unthinkable just a couple of months ago.
The nourishment of writing has also taken a backseat, and I am starting to see that I would rather it would not.
Recently I’ve run into a fellow writer, a really serious one who actually defines himself by it. It makes me think of a time, long ago when I longed to define myself by the same parameters. My writing was something I found so much passion in and catharsis through. Somehow in the midst of the past 6 months, a lot of that focus has been pushed aside to make room for my struggle to find social happiness in this huge and often unforgiving city.
Now I finally see the opportunity of a little time. The days are longer, my life has much more meaning and I’ve found a little inspiration from this new friend. I don’t feel comfortable defining myself as anything really right now, save perhaps a communicator or a networker but I’m closer then I’ve been in a while.
You may see more of me and you may not, but either way I’m holding onto these scraps of paper, and in time I think that they’ll all find their way to their respective homes in the words of this blog.
Stay tuned.
