I Pick Up the Pen

Earlier this week I was talking to an old friend who asked me if I was ever going to post again on Misbeehiving or Glass Incarnate. I hadn’t thought about it because I’ve been so busy writing technical doc for a SAS (service as software) company that I hadn’t been jonesing to get fingers on keyboard. But that’s a different kind of writing, isn’t it? When I started thinking about it, I realized how much I missed writing about life. It’s weird, but it almost feels like it didn’t happen if I don’t write about it. It goes by in a blur and I can’t remember it. On the one hand that’s good because it means I’m living in the present, not the past. But on the other, I find myself living so much in the present that life is just a bubble around me—timeless and weightless—with no gravitas and no anchor. Writing about it means slowing down and processing it more. Taking it in. Savoring it. So I write again. Today I’m going to write about bees because the girls took up most of my morning and they were particularly interesting. Go on over to Misbeehiving and see what I mean.