It has been a long time since I let my fingers pick and choose the letters on the keyboard to translate my haphazard thoughts into readable words. For a while, I was in doubt as to whether I would ever post again. Abruptly, last Summer, another rather dramatic event happened in my life that, while not unexpected, it did occur without preface or fanfare. Another end to another chapter in my sometimes wonderful life, and sometimes wretched life. It was this event that, although I accepted it, and attempted to move on, it hung like a shadow over my shoulder,a lingering nemesis to my self-worth. I am only blaming myself for causing it, and blame only myself for allowing it to instill such powerful feelings of inadequacy as regards to my writings and posts and my life. I could not summon the courage to begin writing again so deep was the pain. Many were the times when I desired to sit and gather my thoughts and express them, but felt I couldn’t as I allowed myself to feel unworthy of any attempt, much less feel I had something anyone else might be interested in reading. It all became so silly after a while. Still, the shadow persisted, perched in my mind like an evil conscience goading me into silence. My fault, all my fault I admitted.

So why now do I begin again? I decided, unofficially of course, months ago that I would start again only after I had been absent for a year. I reasoned that would give me the time and space to get in the habit of thinking again. Sounds silly, of course, but exceedingly to the point. For all practical purposes I had shut down (tried to ignore) any creative impulses and concentrated on doing nothing. That felt safe. But it also felt lousy. I need to create. Well, create is not the perfect or even accurate at best. I need to express and nurture the constant imagination that I cannot suppress. My imagination knows no limits, no taboos, no patterns rational or otherwise. It exists as I exist. Want an example: try not to allow a single thought to cross your mind for even as little as 5 seconds. Don’t even think about not thinking. Did you succeed? Ok, dead people don’t count.  Like my mind, my imagination won’t rest. Ever. However, harnessing that imagination is what I think I must try. So be patient. I can’t type as fast as I can think, nor remember as slow as I can type. It is about time I lived again.