100% full

Almost 11 years after starting this blog, 100% of the free space for photos has been filled.

To add more space requires $48 per year. That seems like a pretty big commitment if it were to continue forever. So, it seems we’re at a crossroad, WordPress and me.

I’d like to leave this blog in cyberspace for my kids to read someday if that’s what they want to do. There is a record here of their lives over the last decade, in some shape or form. Well, maybe more specifically, there is a record in pieces of my experience as their mom.

Today I wanted to post some photos of Mia and Anna from this week, pictures that spark joy and love and gratitude. But alas, there is no room for that now!

Until I figure out what to do next, I’ll probably keep on writing here without photos. Writing here leaves me feeling lighter and better. After the last post about how awful I felt, I felt better almost right away. That’s the power of writing.

This blog has been my free therapy and I am grateful for it. It’s been someone or something to listen and hold the space for my big feelings.

Thank you to those of you who have read and let me share with you. Bless your hearts. Truly. Thank you.

Chaos and turbulence and unconditional love

Writing here has felt self-indulgent lately. It’s not necessarily helpful to others for me to write about pain here, but rather, it burdens them. I don’t want to bring down the few precious people who read this blog. My words, however insignificant, are putting something, en energy, out into the world. So I’ve been thinking: what is the point of writing here? It is self-serving and indulgent? What if I could just let it all go?

Certainly I’ve been to that place before and stopped writing here. Right now it serves as a safe place to process and be heard. A safe place to put the chaos and turbulence I’ve been feeling for a while, and I hope to send out a more positive and affirming vibe again when it comes back to me.

That brings me to where I’m trying to go: to a place of unconditional love. That’s where I really want to be. A place where I forgive everyone and myself; a place where I love everyone and myself–no matter what. No matter what.

For a long time, I’ve worked on healing my heart, forgiving, and loving people and things as they are. Forgiving is easier than forgetting. What is most difficult is to forget.

Learning who I am and who I am on this earth to be–that has apparently been my lifelong assignment. Whether I really know who I am or why I am here yet, even after 41 years, I am not sure. I do believe that everything I’ve experienced is for a reason and it’s a part of my soul’s purpose here. The challenge has been great; too great, at times. It’s been, at times, overwhelming to the point where I’ve wanted to let go of this life. My life, I feel, has been heavy, painful, sorrowful. That’s not to say it has not had great joy, too, because it has. There has been great joy, too. The joy is what keeps me going. It provides just enough juice to get through the next hurdle.

And, maybe this is just what life is: a mix of everything. The goal is to embrace that.