Things have been quiet around here. Looking back over this summer, as we now creep into the end of August, I counted the number of blog posts over the last three months and I am pretty disappointed in myself. I know for many of you this “hobby” of mine may be just that – a word, marked with quotations and no real weight. But, for me, there is weight in this blog, my writing, and these words. I choose every day to keep this site live for anyone to open and read. It is a real vulnerability that some may question and wonder if putting myself out there is really even worth it, but let me clarify that right now, at this moment it is. I enjoy the conversations I have offline and behind-the-scenes with newbie mommies, want-to jump in bloggers, fellow working moms, etc. It has created a larger circle for me with incredible individuals all across the world who are just an open the computer and type a message moments away.
So, being quiet on here is actually a strange feeling for me. But there is a reason.
Lately, I feel I have lost my writing mojo and more heavily, my own words. “Oh, come on, Ashli!” I know you are thinking. I put out some pieces this summer and got some nice traffic and engagement but overall I have felt – blah. (Best way of putting it).
I have been a bit lost over the last few months. Yearning and wanting and needing more out of life and not quite sure how, or when or if that was possible. It has left me anxious and at times feeling incredibly depleted. It is the main reason my words have escaped me. The real need to write has been on the backburner and through this tough time I have walked away from the blog.
They say there are a few life events that are the most stressful of times in an adult’s life. You hear the death of a loved one, divorce, moving and then there is changing jobs and that is what I did. After, nine years, I walked away. To say there were no tears would be false. It was incredibly hard to walk away from a significant part of my identity and life.
Walking away is not easy. In fact, the walk itself, the physical act of leaving is typically the hardest part. Not the days, months, years and tears planning that walk. Not the anger, fear, guilt or sadness of the departure. Not the final straw. Not the seconds, minutes, hours and countless moments after the break. It is the moment itself, the very moment that signifies change.
For me, it was a long time coming. I had mentally prepared. I tossed and turned in my sleep. I laid awake too many nights to recall, staring at a black ceiling above me, listening to the calm noises outside my bedroom window, praying for a sign or relief.
I had a pit in my stomach for far too long. A gut wrenching pang that thumped hard and left me feeling anxious, tired and depressed even at times.
I knew what had to happen but fought the change hard for longer than I ever imagined I could.
Great days left me feeling hopeful and helpless at the same time, but I clung to the good out of hope. Even now, after all, is said and done, I think of the good mostly and feel an emptiness in me as I try to redefine myself.
Part of the challenge of change is the acceptance.
It has been a bit over a month since I left and moved on to a new and great opportunity for me and my family. That last part is critical, my family. I made this big decision because of many factors, but one major one was them.
First there is God, second, there is family, third there is health and forth there is work. In my soul searching and back to those not quite sure how, or when or if that was possible moments I knew I needed those four things in life to lead me. It became more and more clear, that those priorities would provide me with the answers to start living my life to the fullest. And, that is what eventually happened to me. It took time to make this change, years and way too many sleepless nights, but one day I realized I had to trust in God, lean upon my family and listen to my body to lead me and that is how I got to where I am today.
So, I apologize for the quiet summer. Writing has always been my way for therapy and exploration but somehow through the quietness of it all, I am slowly finding my way through what has felt at times like a mountain of change.
I share all of this with you in hope to inspire one of you to take that next leap in life and to know that the change is hard but in the end, the change can be a beautiful, stressful, messy and an incredible part of your new life.