Surfacing

Dear World At Large:

I know it seems I’ve been gone a while, but really I haven’t. I’m still right here, covered up to my eyeballs with rambunctious boys. A tooth has been knocked out, an eye has been blacked and countless other moments of anxiety and tears that have gone unremarked anywhere outside of my own psyche…but through it all I’ve been here. Although sometimes, I admit, I have a harder time finding myself than others. So how can I blame you, dear reader, for having given me up as lost.

Days have gone on with little that felt worth the effort of recording. These end papers of summer feel a bit yellowed and singed from the constant, relentless onslaught of sun. But we do our best to squeeze some manner of pleasure from their waning light. A watermelon picnic — sticky, messy and altogether necessary in the life of a southern child. Late afternoon bike rides — where we pause often to collect interesting rocks and dappled leaves as well as the occasional bug or lizard . Dips in the pool where we see Jack strive for greater independence — daring his brothers to match his cannonballs and underwater backflips.

And for me…well, I’ve indulged in a bit of a creative lull. Finding, to my surprise, yarn cannot be forced into something it wasn’t meant to be. And words don’t necessarily line up and beg to be pinned to the page unless there’s some real meaning or intention behind.

Feeling a lot like the cicadas we’ve found in various stages of undress across our yard, I’m pushing my way out from an old skin. One that’s grown dry, brittle, and more than a little confining. I hear the cicadas only indulge in this activity once every 17 years or so, yet I find myself metamorphosing almost every year about this time. As the leaves begin to wither and the light takes on the ochre tinge of autumn, I’m awakening from a soporific* summer’s slumber. One where I can remain outwardly as busy as a bee, while inwardly hibernating — lulled by the constant drone of activity.

I hope it lasts a while, this most recent awakening. I’ve found I miss me when I’m gone.

*I strongly believe interesting, lovely words should be used with wild abandon. Please feel free to take this ten dollar treasure and claim it as your own with my blessing and well-wishes.