I've been agonizing over what I would write about for my newest blog. Nothing has really come to mind and that was really getting to me. After all, I'm committing to be a writer and let people know that I have a blog that they can read. And then something occurred to me, and wasn't anxious anymore. Sometimes, there's nothing to say.
It is officially spring, but the chill in the air lets one know the weather hasn't turned; it informs us that we are in the wake of winter. Winter is a maddening time for a lot of people. The air is brutally cold, nothing grows or blooms, the sun can hardly be seen or felt, and everything seems to be stuck in place; on hold. Even as nature attempts to set the tone, one of melancholy, pensiveness, reflection, and even depressions for many, the world around us continues to turn and rapidly move. The business of life must go on. It is sometimes difficult to process where we fit when the natural order of things seems to communicate 'be still' when the rest of the world demands us to show up and be accountable.
So, here is the irony in this blog. I'm taking the time to write this just to say there's not much, or anything, to say. Like the winter, I appear to be stuck in place; much like the view outside my window. Maybe it's a good time to read a book; fill in my planner. Or await the inspiration that comes with the change of the seasons.
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