Rumblings and Ramblings

I haven’t been writing much. At least, not here. It’s hard to pin down exactly why. It could be a lack of time. It could be a lack of interest. It could be that I haven’t paid my WordPress bill. In truth it is none of those things.

There is never a lack of time for that which we love. If you love it, you MAKE time for it. It’s not a lack of interest then either. I’ve also paid my bill. So what could it be? Perhaps it is merely this: it’s become difficult to put together a cohesive thought lately.

So much is going on that I don’t feel lost at all, but rather swept up in my life. The dam has broken and the flood waters are ripping through my figurative town. I’m in the moment, and sometimes it’s really difficult to reflect and come to terms with things here in this blog, as I so often like to do, when I’m struggling to stay afloat and wondering where this path will lead. I don’t even really know why I like to reflect. I have a need for clarity for some reason. The more I search, the less clear some things become. Each door opens to a new door.

I like that. It makes my past easier to understand and invigorates me when it comes to exploring my future.

Not all my discoveries are universal. Some are just for me. And as I try to make sense of things I also try to find my path in life that will keep my family secure and keep my soul intact. I have learned this though as of late: on the journey to one’s purpose there is much you must give up and there is much you can gain. The trick is figuring out what to discard and what to pursue. That answer is different for each one of us.

There is no one right way, and anyone who has the audacity to believe there is should be either ignored or outright shunned. No one speaks for me, but me. It is the same for you. You cannot be bullied into anything in this life. Whether you go or don’t go, do or don’t do, believe or don’t believe is your choice and your’s alone.

Fate makes us choose, choice determines our fate. It’s simple, in a complicated sort of way.


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