In this nearly 2 weeks of not blogging, the most perplexing thing of all (for me at least) is that I haven't missed it. Not even kind of. No, not sort of.
Every time I've taken a break previously, I've found that I miss not writing, that the absence of blog noise is very loud indeed. That eventually I'm drawn back by the sound of my own voice.
Not this time.
So far, I've enjoyed travelling around as a reader, commenting here and there, and feeling absolutely no responsibility to myself, to this place, nor anyone else to actually 'write' something.
I've always said that I like making a living as a writer. Truer still, I really like NOT having to write. HA! I never thought I'd say that. I really enjoy the absence of the compulsion to say something here.
I really like not having to come here.
I feel incredibly free in this time of ambivilance. Joyously free.
I've found the "next wave" of blogging, and it's "not" blogging.
Free I say!
I find myself fully experiencing those curious moments that used to ignite in me the urge to blog. Instead of thinking, "I have to post about this," I've been, well, not thinking that. I've been present. I've avoided the fix.
In essence, I've gone back to the time of the wheel, and I am quietly amazed at its roundness.
Take a break. Plant your feet in the spring grass, dig your toes into the cool moist earth, and don't, not for a single second, think about blogging it.
This time, this place where you stand, is offering itself to you.
Take it and keep it to yourself.