23 January 2019

Two thousand and seventy posts.

I can hardly believe this will be number 2,070. I've posted a lot throughout the years and yet rarely return to read them. The recipe section has been helpful, although I've succeeded at avoiding the rest. The other posts, I am happy exist, even if I don't want to see them. I hear of celebrities who don't watch the films they star in. Which seems preposterous, but I get it. It feels like a no win situation. I will likely cringe at the sight of most of these essays. Especially the ones that are dripping with self righteous advice or motherly counsel. Gotta love mothering advice from someone who has been a mom all of a year and a half. The posts that are decent, I will feel guilt I abandoned my writing practice so early on. And of course the mom guilt sets in for the fact that there are so many posts about my sweet firstborn, baby Benji and hardly any description about our other two, who are equally as sweet and adorable.

I hope to describe them accurately in future posts as I see they change so rapidly. My heart feels consumed with loving them and knowing them and observing them, the writer in me wants to describe every inch of raising them. I battle with being fully present and also taking constant notes about who they are, what they said, and how they feel so fresh from heaven. Seth, age 6, talks regularly about his Opa and will bring him up in casual conversation without any prompting. I feel like my dad is their guardian angel in a very real way. The way that Opa is in their thoughts more so than ever before makes me think their open, unjaded souls can possibly feel heaven more clearly and closely than I can. (Matthew 18:4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.)

I remembering hearing the phrase the more you know, the more you know you do not know. I am beginning to see that within myself more clearly these past few months. Oi vey, I cringe at what I thought I knew. Ignorance really is bliss and childhood is wasted on the young and all that. Perhaps it is harder for me to write these days because of this feeling of not knowing. I feel uncertain in so many subjects and the written word feels so solid. I want to write but also want the ability to erase and make new drafts and not be so harshly judged on the words I put down. Even if it's just me playing the critic.

However I plan to keep posting as I have the past few days - it is a small new habit but I do feel lighter. I feel like this is a good direction for me to go, as I have been quite directionless lately. I have a lot of healing to do and the best way I know how to understand what I am going through is by writing it out. I can only hope and work toward making the next two thousand posts better than the last.

"Ancora Imparo" is famously attributed to Michaelangelo at 88 years of age.
I am still learning.

2 comments:

Misti said...

So glad you are back! I have many of your feelings about Instagram.

Unknown said...

The voice you've recently discovered resonates so similarly with me. You have such a beautiful way of capturing your thoughts and feelings and articulating them so eloquently. By way of introduction, I first found you online years ago, I believe it was your handwriting that caught my attention. Then when I learned more of who you were, your love of design, and family, and God, and life, well, I've been happy when my path has virtually crossed yours. Happy to re-discover you here and I'm thrilled to read more. Write on Marta!

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