Weird. For the last two months, every evening, I’ve managed to pull a bit of writing out of my ass simply because there was someone on the other end of these interwebs who I knew was waiting for it. And it wasn’t all shit. Some of it was even worth sharing. In fact, more than once I thought to myself “self, this is pretty much a blog post. You could revive your your moribund blog with work that you’ve already finished.” Who knows, I still might.
So, what have I been doing for the last six months? I’ve been upping my game, I guess. Took up swimming, started writing again, and I’ve been studying Mahamudra with yet another Buddhist teacher. The relationship with the boyfriend is back on track despite waking up one morning a couple of months ago fully convinced that we needed to break up. Work is fine. Critters are fine (and I promise I’ll write Binkles In Love, part 2 really soon).
Tonight, however, I find myself feeling rather uneasy, but I ‘spose it’s good that despite the impulse to run away from the keyboard, here I am. I hope to be here more often.