So since this is my first time ever trying to write a blog, I feel like I should start out by writing about why I am blogging, or maybe what this blog is going to be about... The why is easy - I mean, everybody has a blog, right? But really, my reasoning is not do it because everyone else is doing it. It's just that I have been following so many blogs for the last year or so, and I am reminded of all my "used to's". Among other things, I used to scrapbook, I used to read, I used to sing, and I used to write.
Over the years, marriage and three children have changed a lot of things in my life. I finished my oldest childs baby book just in time for number two to come along. I bought all the goodies for creating an account of the first year of his life, but set it aside until life calmed down a bit. And now I have my third child, and life has still not calmed down. I used to scrapbook - and maybe I will again someday, but not today.
I used to read - I read poetry, devotions, romance, textbooks, biographies, mystery, you name it! I loved reading - I loved getting lost in the settings that the authors painted with their words. Laughing and crying with the characters in the stories. I loved reading about new love, heartbreak, adventure, you name it. I just loved how easily I could be transported to another place and time - like a mini vacation from everyday life. Now, with kids to run after, driving carpool, a house to keep, meals to cook, laundry to put away, homework to oversee - who has time for a vacation? I used to read - and maybe I will will again someday, but not today.
Music - it used to be a part of my every waking moment. From the first notes coming out of my alarm clock in the morning, to the last song I was humming before I drifted off to sleep at night. Artists such as Dolly Parton, Amy Grant, and Journey wrote the soundtrack to my life. I can't remember a day that I didn't dream of being a famous singer. I remember having an argument with my best friend when I was six years old because we were playing "Music Class" and I didn't feel that she had enough vibrato in her voice. I remember forcing my mom's friends to sit and listen to me sing, "Love is Like a Butterfly", and then refusing to leave the room until I was told that I sang just as beautifully as Dolly Parton. I remember listening to Amy Grant singing when I was a young teenager, and just knowing that someday, I too would be on a stage singing to sold out crowds - sharing my voice and my very soul. I remember listening to Journey as an older teenager and thinking that they had somehow gotten a glimpse into my heart and then penned my deepest emotions and put them to music. Then I remember all the years of voice lessons in college, fine tuning the "pop stylings" of my youth into art music and opera, and dreaming of one day singing at the Metropolitan Opera in New York. Today, the soundtrack of my life sounds very different. It sounds like children playing, laughing, fighting, singing and crying. It sounds like Mommy disciplining, instructing, reading, and talking to her babies. And today the soundtrack of my life rarely contains any recorded music - because it seems like with 3 of my own children, and the numerous others that are often around, silence is hard to come by. So when it finds me, I want to bask in it. And now that my children think they are too old for lullabies, the only singing I do is at church on Sundays. I used to sing, and I hope to sing again someday, but not today.
This brings me to writing. In my teenage years, I loved to write! I had an amazing childhood. My parents are committed Christians who are still very much in love with each other. They taught us right from wrong, sheltered us from all the things we shouldn't have to know about, and made sure that we were raised in a loving home that was built on a firm foundation of Christian morals and values. There was so much light in my life that by the time I was a teenager, I was absolutely intrigued by wondering what life would be like in the darker shadows that some people seemed to live in. This is when I really began writing. I wrote poetry about dark and twisty things like heartbreak, loss, and even suicide. I wrote short stories about love and loss. I shared all my personal triumphs and heartbreaks with my trusted friend - my diary, until the day that it broke my trust and shared my most secret thoughts with my mom. And I regularly poured out my heart in long, LONG letters to the "love of my teenage life" talking about things I can't even remember now, but they seemed so very important at the time. I just remember that I always had a pen or pencil in my hand and paper on my lap, and every thought I had - real or imagined, was put on paper. I even spent a couple semesters in college studying journalism because as much as I loved to read - I also loved to write, and wanted to find a career that would enable me to hone my skills as a writer and maybe eventually provide a "mini vacation" for other readers.
I don't know why I stopped writing. I don't know if I got too busy, or if maybe I just realized that I'm not really as dark and twisty as I thought I was. But I do remember what an amazing outlet it was when I wrote. As if by putting my thoughts and emotions into words, I was somehow releasing them into the universe and freeing myself of my hurts and worries. I've been thinking about that, and wondering if I still have it in me - the desire and ability - to write.
I don't know for sure what this blog is going to be about. Maybe I will talk about my faith, maybe my music, maybe my family, maybe my friendships, maybe my childhood. Maybe I will try my hand again at short stories or poetry. Maybe it is just a new way for me to keep a diary - a place to share my secret loves, and hates. My joys and my heartbreaks. I don't even know who I want to read it - or who will be interested. I just know that I want to write again - and what better place to start than here? What better time than now? I used to write, and I know that I will write again - today is the day!
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