I've skipped multiple days ... and it hasn't bothered me a bit.
I have been grateful. I just haven't felt like writing.
When I am too busy or don't feel the inspiration to write, I remind myself that not even my friends are waiting with bated breath for the next blog post, asking themselves, "Gosh, I wonder what Shari is grateful for today!"
I don't know whether I will feel inspired to write anything worth reading in the remaining days of November or not. Maybe. But I'm thankful that I will probably be so distracted by living my life and enjoying family in the coming days that I won't feel the need to blog.
This past week, ever since the events in Paris, I've noticed how words can just become noise. Even my own. And as I've thought about possible blog posts, I realized that I didn't want to add more noise if I didn't have something meaningful to say.
I love having a blog; an outlet to share what's on my heart and mind. But in recent years, I've noticed that I'm not as driven to be heard as I once was. I think there's an obvious reason for that.
For so much of my life, I didn't have a voice. I was always trying to have a voice, wanting to be heard and understood. It's certainly not that I never spoke up. I just didn't believe anyone was listening or truly caring. In my 27-year-long abusive marriage, my feelings were irrelevant and unwelcome. In my spiritual environment, I was expected to suppress whatever I felt or thought that didn't line up with the dictates of my pastor.
I felt like someone was always wanting me to stifle my voice, leaving the things they didn't want to hear unsaid.
When I left the cult I was raised in and dared to speak of my convictions openly, I was asked why I couldn't just leave quietly. Why did I have to be vocal? Why couldn't I just keep all my feelings, opinions and convictions to myself?
I totally get why "Let it Go" is such a powerful song and message for young girls. Conceal, don't feel is a message I received throughout my life and one I could not comply with.
I believe that the more others try to suppress our voices, the stronger our need to be heard grows. At least, I know it's true of me.
There is no one trying to quash my person, my spirit or my freedom of expression today. And subsequently that burning desire to "be heard" has gone from a flame to an ember.
I am heard.
My feelings do matter to the people closest to me.
And I'm not chasing acceptance or approval the way I have at other times in my past.
I've even developed the ability to accept, as a part of life, being misunderstood and misjudged.
I feel liberated.
I think this quote from Lisa Kleypas explains why...