These periods of silence here, they are not an absence.

Every day I think of this space.  Pages are filled with scribbles, stop-start ramblings as I begin to write. I always carry a notebook with me, to capture these fleeting thoughts. It’s hard to organize these random bursts of understanding and newfound rhythm in my days.

when I was young “grownup” was a destination.

I’ve had a lot of reordering in my life the last year, friends. I’ve been shaken, jolted, stirred, and had to set about picking up the pieces. And not always happy about it. Answering questions: what is life after college, life after my family moved away?  The beginning of true adulthood. Funny, when I was young  it seemed “grownup” was a destination. Now I see it’s much more than that, a path perhaps but not a place.