I logged into my old domain 3 weeks ago to find out the site name had been taken: my old site had disappeared and 12 years of blog posts had disappeared. It was possible in the end to recover most of them, but for a while they had gone.
Blogging saved me: through it I found out that I was not alone and that there were other voices like mine. It allowed me to express my thoughts: someone once said that an unreflected life is not worth living & the process of trying to capture them was cathartic.
However, it came from another chapter of my life- a sabbatical back in 2008 & the determination not to slip back into a pattern where I was ‘too busy’. What I found was that you are never ‘too busy’; once you start writing, the activity starts to generate more and more writing. It isn’t necessarily that good or polished but the process starts to change you.
The period when I thought that I’d lost them was less painful than I thought: when I began doing this I was 42 and now I’m 54- life feels very different now. In those 12 years, the reality of ageing has become…a reality, at least one contemporary has died and my children are no longer little and adorably cute. Life in your 50s feels less permanent and you realise that you can take so much with you: some things have to go.
For me this represents an opportunity to start again: the process of writing and the introspection that it requires is still just as essential, but who I am and how I see things is changing.
But: will I take this opportunity?