So much so, actually.
Interesting thing, I was going to say “funny” but I don’t think that’s the word.
As introductions go, this one is not so great. I would know, I have a degree in making sure I know when introductions are bad. Doesn’t really stop me, though.
The thing that’s not quite funny? It’s this next bit.
My first year with this blog I had 40 posts.
That’s SO many. That’s almost 4 a month. Every month. Craziness. And they were about EVERYTHING and ANYTHING that wandered through my brain. I mean, they would have to be. Even at my busiest, I’m not sure I have enough writing-worthy content that people will find interesting to make a post every week.
This past year?
Five posts. Or possibly Nine. I don’t remember and it doesn’t really matter as both are pretty abysmal. I mean, 5-9 posts in a year is quite a bit less than 1 per month. It’s more like ⅓-⅔ of a post per month. Much less impressive.
Well, a lot. Pandemics, moving, divorce, new relationships, so many new jobs, and more travel than you could shake several sticks at. I’ve been writing, journaling, getting posts out on other platforms and for other people. It’s been fun.
But it’s also been exhausting and there are more times now than ever before where I get home, look at the computer, and realize there is so much more to life than just typing in front of a screen.
But, yet. It’s what I find myself doing astonishingly often. Writing, talking, and promoting my ideas and concepts have become cornerstones of a person who, at one time, wanted to work in a lab somewhere and generally have a quiet-ish life. I’m not sure what happened, but I now find myself in the midst of a relatively friendly maelstrom that seems to mostly run on caffeine, lots of volume, and more wee hours of the morning and night than I ever would have signed up for voluntarily. However I got here, it was a slow process. A careful consideration of acquiescence and agreement that led to…me. I suppose.
However I got here, six apartments, three cities, a business, a marriage, lots of injuries, a few ER visits, millions of words, and hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of miles later – I find myself sort of remembering what 10 years ago felt like.
It’s a weird type of synesthesia. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it’s when a person experiences something with the entirely wrong sense. Like, they see colors when they hear music. So, a g-chord is green, for instance. Or the dog feels like coffee tastes. It’s an utterly fascinating glimpse into completely and wholly different ways of experiencing the world (Check out a quick overview here).
And, as we are all wont to do from time to time, looking back over the years with their mountains of excitement and valleys of hardship it’s always amazing to realize that we made it. That we traversed our own personal Mordor and threw some nasty jewelry away while also growing as a person.
And probably falling in love with potatoes for at least a moment.
But then there’s always the thought of what comes next. What’s the next adventure? The next reason for questing or the next truly poor choice that I’m going to make?
I can’t know. Just as I never would have expected to be where I am or doing what I’m doing way back when, fresh-faced and just out of college, I made grandiose plans with friends while sitting at a bar and deciding that, yes, we did indeed have it all figured out.
Now I look ahead and see storms and canyons and soaring heights of experience just waiting for me to traverse them – beckoning with a spiritual wanderlust that pulls me ever forward.
And my feet feel heavy. I feel tired. Part of me wonders if it’s worth it. If I should even try. Meanwhile, the other piece of me whispers I don’t deserve the things already in my life, why on earth should I expect more?
And this, this idea of earning rest and being deserving of whatever comfort you can afford in the small times, is the reason I opened KataNerd again and started writing. It’s the thing that keeps me up at night and pushes me a little harder the next day.
And that’s just what is. I don’t have an answer or a funny story. Just a reminder that all of us, no matter the life, no matter the means or the dreams. You deserve the rest, the coffee, the moment to yourself in whatever perfect place it arrives in – be it a gas station or bookstore.
And that’s it. Much like the introduction, this conclusion is poorly done. There is a science to them, and I’m ignoring it completely.
Remember to respect the adventures you’ve had, be excited for the ones yet to come, and remember it’s ok to take some rest absolutely whenever you feel it necessary.