Are you there, Universe? It's me, Rachel.

 I don't exactly know why I stopped writing. I'm sure I could blame it on being busy, but it's more than that. Somehow, I forgot that part of how I cope with all that is going on in the world is through words: finding the right words for the perfectly crafted sentence. It is through this process of typing, deleting, revising that helps me figure out how I fit into the current puzzle. When I don't write, I don't consciously miss it, but it means I lose access to the deepest parts of me that are there to help.

I didn't grow up using a journal or a diary. I mean, I went through some phases, but nothing really stuck until blogs came about... and then when the internet changed and blogs were less common, well, I wrote less. There is a magic in the publishing for me--knowing someone might read what I write gives it more of a purpose, I guess. Because it's never been about me figuring it out (whatever 'it' we're talking about) but about me figuring it out and then sharing that with someone else. As a Capitol E extrovert, I am energized by sharing my inner thoughts with others. Keeping a journal feels helpful...but sharing one feels right.

My body has also let me know that I'm not as 'ok' as I think. Some of it is due to aging, certainly, but I have developed some specific pain over the last 3 months that tells me my self care game needs more. It took me awhile to notice that I am having multiple ocular migraines per day because I don't get headaches and I've had floaters since I had a blood vessel burst in my left eye when I was 10. It also turns out that people don't see light halos quite as often as I do (who knew)? The neck pain was more immediately recognizable for what it was; the TMJ issue, however, drove the point home. Ok. Got it. Could you please stop screaming at me now?

It took a friend writing to remind me that this modality is helpful for me to process things and get them out of my body so I don't hold onto the stress anymore. And so, dear Universe, here I am, writing again. I don't know if you're still listening (Bueller? Anyone?) but I hope you are. I don't like living in pain, and I don't like feeling lost. So, back to the blog we go.