Why would anyone listen to me?

This is a thought I have had a lot recently. I have looked back through this blog as far as my pride would allow and thought about other blogs I've written and just cannot understand the girl behind them. I've changed and not changed in the few years since blogging. Facebook and Instagram keep me connected to social media at large, but I try to refrain from sharing too much personal information or opinion or reflection at all.

Sometimes it just seems like I have said too much, cue R.E.M.

There's a problem with keeping my words to myself though, a problem with trying too hard to remain impartial. I risk becoming nothing or feeling as if I have become nothing. What do I even like? I truly struggle to identify the things I care about and believe in, and that is troubling. In the past writing has always been the one medium that helps me figure out what is going on in my head. I write it all out, at times almost as if in a trance, until sense arrives. And in the past I have honestly felt that I had something worthwhile to say, that I was Called to Say it.

I have written in a journal off and on in my life but even that has lost its appeal. As a culture do we say too much? Share too much? It seems like Everyone Else is an expert on something, how to dress/cook/create/think/shop/be in relationships. It makes me feel inadequate ALL OF THE TIME. I got to a point where I felt Ecclesiastes 5:7 breathing down my neck.

"Much dreaming and many words are meaningless. Therefore stand in awe of God." (version?...that is how I remember it, and maybe that's the problem!)

Okay, so...take a break from all the talking....but

Why can't I buy that cute thing and photograph it in that perfect way and share it to get 200 likes in 5 minutes? Why do I even want to? I don't want to. Why do I feel like I should want to?

What drove me to blog and share poetry and photography on DeviantArt all those years ago? Maybe the better my relationships are in real life the less time I have to invest online. But at this time I don't feel like I have much going on in my life.

Well, marriage...work...taking care of the dog and being half of what keeps our life in balance. Is it just me or are we kind of driving each other to this same point of inadequacy? Am I writing here for you, because I have some insight, or am I here for myself? Am I a flicker in the darkness or just another burnt-out bulb? Do I have too much free time?

Can't we all belong?

Is the answer just to stay off the internet? Because that doesn't seem rational. This is a fabulous way to connect to people, to learn new things, and to be entertained at little cost.

 In a little under a year my husband, dog and I will be moving into our WV Vanagon full time. We don't know for how long, or exactly where it will take us. We hope to be in a new state at the end of it all, or to rule them out and return to Florida. We have this restlessness that must be taken care of and we want people to join our journey online. By then I hope to figure out just what it is I can give to this world, because lately it feels like I have nothing to add. In the mean times we struggle to find our own hobbies, our own creativity, and by extension our own significance. I seem to struggle with this more outwardly or perhaps violently than Matt does, but we both feel it.

I need more in my day to day, whether it's blogging or creating or volunteering or getting more involved in church I am not certain. Maybe that's what I came here to solve. Maybe you can relate? I think that in the past I have had seasons where my daily life (work at the Foster Barn in Gainesville, coupled with Greenhouse Church) has been so incredibly full as to keep everything else at bay. Now, a year out from leaving those things behind, I am feeling their loss. I am grieving again and again instead of finding suitable replacements for my energy and offerings.

I think the less I write, the less involvement I have with the community I am in, the less I feel any burden to think or invest. Life must be cultivated.

So maybe I will once again write in this blog regularly, or maybe not, but for once these things have left my head and maybe that's a start.

This is not an ode to myself I hope, but rather me reaching out. And if it is an ode to myself I hope it is because it's okay, even necessary, to take the time to pay attention to your own insides.

-Hasta, Jenny