On Friday

In which knuckles crack like firewood.

I'm sitting in my bed. It's 11:11pm. My husband is beside me, the dogs are at my feet and you, my blog, are sitting in my lap in the form of an Ipad. In the silence, the keystrokes are loud and accented by the sighs of the dogs sleeping. My husband reads a digital book, no pages rustle and somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog barks.

Tomorrow is a full moon. That bears no relevance on this story but I thought you should know. I track these kinds of things to amuse my mind in passing.

I read over old blogs, mine and others, before setting to task this one. I belatedly notice that I have received comments on my blogs, from my Aunt and cousin and I read them over in amazement. In this world where I'm sent an email notification every time some one sneezes, it never occurred to me that a comment would drift by unnoticed.

So I notice now.

A few days ago, I tune in to NPR as I drive to one place or another. A short story - more of a sound byte in passing, says that people fall in love three times faster online than in real life - a lack of inhibitions that daunt face to face. Like I said, interesting but like the full moon, has little to do with the blog.

I'm losing my voice. Or rather, it hurts to talk so I'm electively taking a break from the vocal. It's not going to last long. Morning. Maybe.

11:17 blog. The seconds are skipping against the minutes. An hour will have danced by before I know it. I seem to write more at nights. Active mind I suppose that isn't ready to sleep. Better to let it play here where the only damage it can cause is to my train of thought....

I have a lot to say blog. Volumes and bound books worth. My mind is awhirl with possibility and alit with things I wish I could do justice to. They call me an auditor now. Head of the department, no less. Three years and going and it hasn't been able to hold a prince's candle to this... my writing, my words. These tiny hours I snatch and share and smear my soul against paper or screen and I'm here. Always here, waiting for the working world to slip away and give rise to this. I sing the body electric.

And that is not something that is easily comprehended. Only when I'm writing, with husband beside me, dog curled warm on my feet and the knowledge that my daughter sleeps sound in the room next to ours do I feel... feel like myself. Nothing else needed. No one to 'be' for. To be able to have this time where stress cannot seek me and love is all I could ever feel.. I'm not sure there are many that can stake a claim in such time.

Anyway blog, I feel like that was a lot of short rantings wrapped around a loose fifteen minutes of intent. To anyone that reads this or will read it I offer encouragement.

Keep writing. Keep typing at the top of your lungs 'I'm here, I was here, every silly little thought and deep inspiring life lesson or joke or ramble I share matters'. Cause it does. Oh believe me it does. This lesson of language is one of the greatest gifts we have and even if you use your blog for nothing more than to explore the ups and downs of cracking your knuckles against pavement, it matters.

Trust me.

Till next time blog. Blessed Be.