Maybe it’s because I have a blog now, this journal that chronicles my days, and maybe it’s because I’ve been doing this for a full year, but I am beginning to see the patterns of my life, ups and downs, hills and valleys, joy and discontent. Things I don’t think I ever noticed before.
I suppose having a blog forces you to become the journalist of your life, reporting on the world as you see it. It has a way of placing you under a microscope, and you start to focus on all the details.
I see the way I do things, or don’t do them, I see that the basement that was a mess last year is a mess again, that my desk is always messy, that my studio collects things no matter how many times I clear it out. There is the chair in my bedroom that grows clothes, the stacks of books that migrate to different rooms, the bench in the kitchen that is always cluttered.
I see the things I do over and over again, every year, every season, every day. I see the hours as they pass by, but I also see the sum total of their passing. Some days add up to much more than others.
I see cycles of whining and complaining, stress and calm, being sick and being healthy. I see the joy at the beginning of each season that wears out its welcome just as the next one shows its face. I see myself noticing the subtle way sunlight shifts with each month as it falls across the yard… did I ever notice that before?
I see myself as in a book, and I thumb back and forth through the pages finding phrases and sentences again and again. Sometimes I like what I read, other times, I cringe. Sometimes I am surprised to find myself there. It’s like looking in the mirror.
So am I noticing these things because of this blog, or simply because I’m getting older? Or both…?
Mostly, I’m thinking it’s a good thing, that I am building some sort of manual for my life. Perhaps it will instruct me on how to fix the things that are broken, how to avoid making the same mistakes over and over again. Perhaps it will teach me a thing or two about myself and this world, and one day, I will find that all my bad habits have been broken, eradicated, overcome.
Okay, fine, we all know that’s not going to happen.
But perhaps as I write my way through another year, I’ll find a word or a sentence that alters the pattern, ever so slightly, so that next year I can look back and see myself wearing a different dress.
One that feels comfortable and makes me smile each time I put it on
to go out and chase those shadows through the garden.