On October 1 I took a rash step and declared that October would be 31 days of Listening to My Own Voice. It was most definitely a spur of the moment, un-premeditated decision. And obviously unannounced. I just disappeared from the online world. <poof>
Sorry about that.
I had just gotten to a place where I was feeling addicted to blogs, to a daily deluge of inspiration, to my phone (the portal into the wonderful and weird world of the internet). That morning I read something that completely shifted how I thought of myself, just from reading someone else’s words, and I decided enough! I need to know what I think instead of what everyone else thinks. I need to know what’s happening in my life and home, not in everyone else’s. I need to dwell in this world – the present, 3D, tangible, real world – not a screen world.
So I left.
And it was weird. And somewhat disturbing. And illuminating. And I think I’m a better person for it and a more responsible internet-er.
And yes, it’s now December.
Thank you to all of you dear friends who have mentioned my absence here. I feel loved and appreciated and affirmed that I have something unique to offer.
So, to bring you up to speed on what’s been going on here in the meantime…
Kiri is almost five months and a darling darling little baby. Levi started potty training just about the time we started homeschooling. Note to self : bad timing. Amelie has suddenly become almost five, instead of pudgy four. And Lia has learned to ride her bike. She also turned 7. A long, leggy 7.
I love my kids. What more, I like them. Lucky me to spend my days with my favorite people.
I’m shifting my homeschool approach towards a model of classical education and so far, loving it.
My mom and sister came for a visit over Thanksgiving (getting in Lia’s birthday, the birthday party, and a recital to boot). It’s not often you wish hard for something unattainable and it comes true. And they’re coming back in June, glory.
I’ve been going through a renaissance of sorts. Kind of an inner Fruit Basket Upset. Everything is up for grabs.
It’s like I’ve got all my ducks in a row and now I’m going back to my ‘coming of age’ revelations and dusting them off, reexamining them, trying them on for size. A bit unsettling, but fun. (Welcome to my 30s!)
A side effect of said experience is that I’ve been feeling very vulnerable. Trying to embrace this instead of feeling…well, vulnerable about it.
Just as a glimpse of how this whole shebang goes, last night I realized that I would really really like to take flamenco lessons. I’d like to be intense and stomp my feet and wear a beautiful dress that I swish and swoop. I told Devo this morning that I feel I would be a better person if I took flamenco lessons. (Poor guy, he never knows what’s coming next).
Now, in previous years, I would have chosen the graceful, beautiful, serene, soft hula as my dance of choice. I think this might be a foretelling of the next stage of my personal development. More vigor, more fire.
<stomp, swish> (with red lipstick)
Then again, maybe not.
But I think so.