Returning to writing
Many moments in my life have prompted me to take time to think in silence. The amount of time varies – from a few seconds or hours to days, even years.
My last post sidetracked me. I ruminated, exploring who I am, what I want to say and who I want to be. Since I felt like I’d jumped into an existential spiral, I stepped away from writing and chose to spend my time volunteering instead.
While volunteering earlier this year on a therapeutic horsemanship project, I pushed myself beyond my limits. Pain developed in my left knee that didn’t go away. In July, my orthopedic surgeon found a “bucket handle” meniscus tear on an MRI and fixed it in early August with arthroscopic surgery, my first surgery. I’ve been in physical therapy three times a week since mid-August.
My physical therapist published a memoir seven years ago. I began reading his memoir on the subway ride home after our first session. His raw and honest account of the early part of his life juxtaposed against returning to his homeland 18 years later inspired me to come back to this blog. It’s lovely how our lives take us on journeys that help us meet people who guide us to where we’re meant to be.
Over the past eighteen months, I’ve continued my practice of being a person. I just did it without broadcasting to the world.