the stories we tell
i ended up outside.
sometimes early january is friendly to outside morning dwellers. this happens very rarely in michigan. i still almost don’t believe it.
the water was still and the city was so quiet. i had to take a picture.
i haven’t done this so much anymore.
take pictures, write down my thoughts.
i could say i’ve been busy and that would be half-true.
i could say i’ve been writing other things and that would be one-fourth true.
i could say a lot of things.
but the best answer is that sometimes it is hard to say what is true.
and that’s what i’ve always tried to do.
when you write a blog (or when i do) it’s easy to slip into self-pity or narcissism or boring or absolutely pointless. or worse yet – soapbox. the questions of why do i have any platform to say anything to anyone started to haunt and so i’d hit delete.
sometimes it is hard to say what is true.
the truth is i moved out of a city i love. the truth is i lost some friends. the truth is having the family i have is so stressful that i don’t even know what the water we swim in looks like from the outside. the truth is i’m lonely. the truth is the church i was a part of forever doesn’t feel safe. the truth is the kids are better now. the truth is i have more time on my hands than i know what to do with. the truth is i don’t know how to process possibly being a caregiver for the rest of my life.
the truth is i don’t know how to answer the questions that life is posing these days.
so it feels better to keep quiet and still like the city in the morning.
it’s been good to be still and know.
but honestly, i need you, too. to tell you the truth, i like writing a letter to everyone. i like the immediacy of this medium. i’m bad at staying quiet for too long and i know it matters to share what i see.
i’m not sure why but the truth matters more than any of us know.
true stories. the most compelling of the lot. i’m easing back into this. i’m breaking the surface of the water. this mild winter is going to make for hospitable great lakes come summer.