rediscovering the meaning

i have to start somewhere.

writing, to any degree and in any form, is like a muscle that, once it stops being used, it loses it's strength. it has the potential to get back into shape, but the hard part is moving when it feels so weak. you remember how rewarding it can be when it's being used all the time, but the vague memory doesn't inspire you enough to get through that awkward and uncertain period where you're unsure you'll ever feel as strong as you use to feel. so you just leave it, like an uncharted terrain. untapped. unopened. unused...

along the way -- somewhere between dropping out of school for two years indefinitely, falling in love, getting married, finding employment at one of my favorite operations in the city of vancouver (the bar method), and realizing that i don't want to be a teacher, i found myself with less meaning. not that my life stopped having meaning, but more that i simply seemed to have lost the attitude to see it. somewhere in the midst of "settling down" with a life-partner and semi-permanent job, i adopted the "day-in-day-out" attitude towards life rather than seeing the fun, never-ending awaiting adventure and potential all around me. that, indirectly, gave me this sense that i have nothing to write about. 

and it feels strange to attribute my lack of creative juices, or my lack of proclivity to create, to things that are such blessings -- a consistent schedule, marriage, + a job i love. but when i reflect on a past entry, i remember that i am affectionately addicted to newness. in the midst of finding things that make me feel secure and fulfilled, i lost my ability to see the world as a colorful spectrum of feelings, ideas, and thoughts. because that's what blogging was for me -- my insights about the everyday. nothing revolutionizing but, to me, those humble observations were what made me understand; what made me feel alive.

writing has been a therapist to me. it's just a symbol, or a manifestation, of what my heart already knows. when i let the words come out, and i see them and read them back to myself, i gain perspective and understanding. allowing others to take part in it with me (hence a public blog as opposed to a private journal), i feel like i walk with them in my acumen, and that's therapeutic to me as well.

the best way for me to re-approach something that use to come as a second nature is to intentionally try and find the meaning, the beauty, and god, in those things that have become seemingly ordinary to my soul. it doesn't mean i have to lead a more full life with explosions, concerts, and confetti (although that does sound like a fun day), but just that i have to ask god, and allow him, to open my eyes to see things through that lens that gives me back my passion for the day.

so i need to begin, again. i need to give myself permission to try. even if the results aren't groundbreaking at first, i desire to regain my muscle, not just to write, but more than that, to see life and others as more breath-taking and lovely than how they often appear at first glance.