… may I ramble a little?
If you’ve wondered why I’ve been blogging less lately, it’s because I’ve retreated into my world of solitude. While there, I did pondered profoundly and realized I can’t be the girl that blogs about her clothes and shares her projects. Not everyday. Maybe everyday for a little while, but then my mind goes off into a very different path that has nothing to do with outfits or projects or even blogging. Does this mean I lack focus or direction in my life?
But what if I’m capable of doing several things or, in fact, be quite talented in those different areas? If I excelled, would my “inability to focus” still be called a distraction? I know that sounds conceited but , today, at least, I regard myself quite highly. Today I choose to believe what my teachers, mentors, colleagues, and adversaries say about me: that I’m talented; that I’m gifted. But I also admit a weakness. Today, I admit that I haven’t been climbing a hill with the intention of planting a flag at the peak. I don’t have a summit to conquer. Never have. Instead I climb a staircase; you know, the kind that goes up several steps then stop at a landing, turns, then goes up another flight then stops again. I’ve been climbing that stunted staircase all my life. I have a small goal then I pause. Then I tackle another flight, and, in essence, another fight. Then, I pause.
I always pause. Sometimes I rest for a very long time. Maybe some people think it’s a weakness. I imagine myself in a cocoon. I emerge once stifled by solitude or silence. Then I begin again. Sometimes with something totally new. I’ve burned bridges a few times. Even fewer, I’ve returned to the debris and rebuilt slowly and at a huge cost. But I’ve never regretted.
In my lifetime, I have been
a solitary and shy child,
a pianist who performed in front of crowds, safe while physically connected to the keys,
a great composer unrealized, who couldn’t separate herself from her music and chose to tuck it away,
an actress but only on stage, who couldn’t keep her masks on to remain unscathed in the jaded world of theater,
a writer who runs out of words, goes mute-in-the-mind, then finds her voice
a teacher who gives too much that she easily burns out, sometimes resenting being drained but could never abandon.
Today, I am on a long vacation. Not by choice but, I admit, not complaining either. I’m in a new country, living a new life with my best friend. I know something’s up and I’m certain it’s coming.
I’m waiting to emerge from my cocoon.
Note: lovely sky photo courtesy of B.