Blogging is hard. Sitting on my bed and pouring out my soul in larger fractions, whether funny or serious, is not so therapeutic. It takes more work. There's a lot less image-control that goes on here, lately. But it is far more rewarding. The blogging community has offered me so much, from love, to support, to simply a fresh insight on something I needed to consider from a new angle. It makes me think about what I'm giving back to it. Right now, the answer is not much.
That, however, changes from now on. About a month ago, I promised myself not to shut off any outlet that added something positive to my life, any muscle I could strengthen that both myself and others could reap the benefits from. I put effort into some outlets, but have let others slip, like this one. However, this blogging thing is not a slippery slope. All it takes to blow the dust off and get going again is a few simple clicks and an empty document. The control is there for me to take.
But I haven't felt so much like taking control of late. Actually, the past few months have been the craziest series of completely out-of-control events I think I've ever experienced. But it's okay. I'm learning to believe God when He says that things happen for a reason, and understand that while a few of my feelings have been stepped on and a few new realities are now on my horizon, I am not broken. I am quite the opposite of broken. I think maybe I'm dusting myself off along with this website.
I have a problem, though. I can't blog the way I used to. I almost didn't sit down to post tonight, because I don't feel like I have anything funny to say, or anything that sounds remotely like something someone would want to hear at all. And I learned something: I am a different person than I was back in June. Or October. Or even last week. I can't go back to where I was, because I don't fit there anymore. As Caitlyn said to me while speaking on a completely-different-but-rather-related subject, as we change, we have to find new holes, new homes. If we try to go back to our old hole, we find that we are differently shaped now, and don't really fit at all. I suppose I'm out looking for my new hole.
What this does not mean: That there will never be a funny sentence from the mouth (or pen) ((or keyboard)) of Margaret Carpenter again. Of all the things I do not intend to do, sitting around and moping long past moping's expiration date is at the top of the list. Like I said earlier, I want to get back up and in this race of Life. I'm rediscovering that I'm still a worthy competitor. But getting back up may look a lot like this, a few more muddled, vague, distracted posts from me while I'm trying to find my voice.
Guys, I can't tell you what a relief it is to know that I still have a voice. That I still have something to offer. That God has not created me to be faced by one set of formidable struggles and be defeated forever. That the very fact that I am alive adds meaning to the world. How crazy is that? I haven't found everything I'm looking for yet. But I believe with all my heart that that is the very essence of our time here on Earth - the idea of always searching, always reaching, always running for what is almost attainable but barely out of our grasp. It proves that what we're after is something maybe a little bigger than what we see with our eyes. I like the idea of looking beyond the available world, because I believe all true meaning is found in that place outside - of our comfort zones, our biases, our tastes, what we think the world should look like.
After all of that, I have one thing to say: Guys, I'm back. And as cheesy as it sounds, (and is, sheesh) it's good to be home.
~Margaret
