The Power of the Phoenix

Maybe someone’s noticed that I’ve been away. I was slowly going into an ashes and embers state with my writing, and with my own personal development –beginning a new job, in a new town, and in the throes of wedding planning, will do that to someone.

The thing is, we’re all human. We all lose ourselves sometimes, and we start to question if what we say, do, or write actually matters; if our words have an impact. Now, with tracking and analytics software free or simple to turn on, we see those numbers – and for me, those numbers had been dwindling.

Now, the wedding bells have rung; I’m past the quarter-year stage and am still in love with this new company, and I’m ready to rise again. I read somewhere, from someone, that prioritizing items is key to success – that instead of saying “that’s not important to me”, one should say “That’s not a priority right now”. I’ve tried this in the past few months, and it’s really helped my anxieties of getting everything done, and I can focus on the things I do want to juggle, and not prioritize on those that I cannot.

One simply cannot do everything, and I’ve learned this the hard way. Without proper time for self-care – for me, that’s journaling and practicing yoga – I tend to break down. Without a balance of “me” time, “us” time with the new husband, and social time, I tend to be off-kilter. Without being engaged in work, I tend to be complicit and complacent, just along for the ride. And without blogging, I feel lost, without an identity.

I write, but I wouldn’t call myself a writer. I have this blog, but I wouldn’t call myself a blogger. And why not? Maybe I don’t do it enough, I don’t have the readership, that nasty imposter syndrome is too far deep in my head… but what it really boils down to, is that I hadn’t been prioritizing it. The wedding details and other volunteer activities have nudged up, claiming to be more important than the words that magically are transferred from my mind to my computer screen.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness.
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
— Maya Angelou

Our wedding rehearsal dinner was in a small local Italian brick oven café, in a room aptly titled The Phoenix Room. I think it’s time to rise from the ashes of “what could have been” and instead glide toward “what is” – and for me, that is blogging, that is engaging this wonderful online community, and that is saying “I’m here, and I’m home”.

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