I set out at the beginning of May with a 30 Day Challenge. To write on my blog every day. It went mostly well, though it became more difficult near the end of the challenge for a few reasons. One was material. I found that there were things I wanted to write about, like The Cocos, my little foster dogs, but the story is long, and did I want to sit at the computer for hours to write their story? There are also things I couldn't write about.
I found that once per week, usually Friday, I didn't feel like writing, so I didn't. And then I would get back to it, similar to this evening, knowing I somehow had to bring my challenge, but not necessarily my blogging, to an official close. So I am sitting, the fan on, Ralph on the piano (he just asked it what it was doing...) and writing. hat I learned is that it's OK in a 30 Day Challenge to miss a day, or even a few days. That it feels good to come back to that challenge, even knowing that the day before you lay on the sofa and thought, shit, my challenge...
Why a 30 day challenge? It was a focus. It was a direction. I need direction. This week was a tough week. The governor of Oaxaca has invited us to enjoy a solid ten days at home. Not by force, he said, but by solidarity. Out of respect, honor, and caring for our neighbours.
Ralph and I walk each morning and sometimes we are quiet with our own thoughts (well, I am with mine, he may be in the "nothing box" just breathing and walking...) and other times we talk about life. We worry, of course. Mostly we are practical. Maybe we will have business next March. What does that actually mean?
Last night I pondered life not in Oaxaca. I pondered having to move back to Canada. Even as I write it I get teary and short of breath. It was one of those logistics questions we play in our heads. Maybe those questions that we are always afraid to say out loud. Realistically, we are way better off here in Oaxaca, the cost of living is much less and the dogs don't need winter coats or boots. Wow. That took a lot of courage to type. Well, courage and I think I broke the backspace key.
It was also a tough week because at 45 years old I think I am what one gloriously calls perimenopausal. My emotions are raw and my heart not just on my sleeve but downright out there for all to see. Weepy, itchy boobs and a damn sore back, the events taking place in the United States have me more than a little fragile. We know too many people there to not fear for them. And yet there are stories of incredible bravery that make you believe what you know if your heart to be true. There are good people. Most people are good people.
So, good people, it may be the end of a 30 day challenge but I look forward to a renewed blogging routine. And now, time for wine.
I found that once per week, usually Friday, I didn't feel like writing, so I didn't. And then I would get back to it, similar to this evening, knowing I somehow had to bring my challenge, but not necessarily my blogging, to an official close. So I am sitting, the fan on, Ralph on the piano (he just asked it what it was doing...) and writing. hat I learned is that it's OK in a 30 Day Challenge to miss a day, or even a few days. That it feels good to come back to that challenge, even knowing that the day before you lay on the sofa and thought, shit, my challenge...
Why a 30 day challenge? It was a focus. It was a direction. I need direction. This week was a tough week. The governor of Oaxaca has invited us to enjoy a solid ten days at home. Not by force, he said, but by solidarity. Out of respect, honor, and caring for our neighbours.
Ralph and I walk each morning and sometimes we are quiet with our own thoughts (well, I am with mine, he may be in the "nothing box" just breathing and walking...) and other times we talk about life. We worry, of course. Mostly we are practical. Maybe we will have business next March. What does that actually mean?
Last night I pondered life not in Oaxaca. I pondered having to move back to Canada. Even as I write it I get teary and short of breath. It was one of those logistics questions we play in our heads. Maybe those questions that we are always afraid to say out loud. Realistically, we are way better off here in Oaxaca, the cost of living is much less and the dogs don't need winter coats or boots. Wow. That took a lot of courage to type. Well, courage and I think I broke the backspace key.
It was also a tough week because at 45 years old I think I am what one gloriously calls perimenopausal. My emotions are raw and my heart not just on my sleeve but downright out there for all to see. Weepy, itchy boobs and a damn sore back, the events taking place in the United States have me more than a little fragile. We know too many people there to not fear for them. And yet there are stories of incredible bravery that make you believe what you know if your heart to be true. There are good people. Most people are good people.
So, good people, it may be the end of a 30 day challenge but I look forward to a renewed blogging routine. And now, time for wine.
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