Recently, as an up-and-coming writer, I did the unthinkable. After almost a year of consistently posting on my blog, I stopped writing and posting for a month. Four posts were missed.

New writer trying to establish herself suicide right? 

Or so I’ve been led to believe.

I appreciate that I live in an age where so much information and knowledge is out there for the learning. Every click and swipe brings access to another success story and how they did it, with a background story you recognize or a similar desire to your own in their heart. 

So much advice on how to succeed. 

Figure out your why! Do it like this! Do it like that! You need momentum! You need to be consistent! You need/must/have to post often! Quality content every day! Add value! Engage! Stimulate! Inspire!

Sure that’s all worthwhile advice, and I am so grateful for these people that so freely share their knowledge to educate those of us further down on the ladder.

You couldn’t possibly fail…could you? 

But I notice they miss the part about how the most important lesson is to use your own perspective and wisdom,(much like everything else, you know yourself best, because you do), but by the time you’re seeing all their free advice, it’s been overdone and does not work the way it did when they did it. 

Things change so quickly and people get jaded by novel attempts to sell stuff, whether it’s goods, services, or opportunities. You can pretty much bet you will not be the next one making a hundred thousand dollars as easily as they did. 

I choose to see it more as inspiration.  

Although I do have moments of intense self-judgment. Like I’m in a competition – I’m not sure with who exactly.

It’s funny that my own worst bully is myself, using the insults hurled at me previously in life, usually from before I was a “proper adult” (you know back when you just took what people threw at you without questioning it). 

I needed to take some time and reconnect with some quality people. Mainly my girlfriends, the awesome women I’ve been lucky enough to count as close friends at various points in my life. And yay, turns out that when we are together we are still as close as ever. That’s the stuff you need reminding of periodically. Especially after the age of 45 when life starts to get serious, bringing events like divorce and death that have the ability to decimate homes that were worked for and built together for years, lives, and souls. 

Often you self-isolate during these events, simply because you don’t have the energy to even think about reaching out to anyone. All systems switch to survival. So it’s envigorating, once you come out the other side, to reconnect with those people.

I find that when I’m in periods of intense activity, especially involving lots of people, I do not have the head and heart space to dig deep and think about things to write, it’s like I’m experiencing and absorbing it all for dissection later. 

So it was exceptionally great to reconnect with my people. It’s funny how we gravitate back towards the people we knew when you were young, the people we were fresh, genuine, authentic, foolish, and grew up with (not just childhood but more of that period between 15 – 35). The relationships that were built when we were still so young and real. Before we were jaded and cynical, covered in scar tissue and experiencing various levels of PTSD.

The last decade or so of my life has been hard and a bit strange at times. A complete tearing down and letting go of the person I thought I was.

I’ve learned some pretty intense lessons. But I’m not lonely, I’ve realized I like my own company. And I can appreciate that it’s taught me courage and all of those important things, but still, there is an internal tension, awake and aware, like a stretched rubber band.

Naturally, I was grateful to just feel my soul relax for a little while. It felt wonderful. 

Like so many situations in life, you do not realize the depth of something until you get perspective.  

I dragged my teenage son along for the experience. 

He got to meet my friends and a whole lot of other people just like me. I am gratified that he felt such a strong connection to so many of my friends, often so much so, that he would not stop talking to them. A sure sign he felt comfortable in their presence too. 

So back to this version of life and my processing and dissecting and writing about my thoughts and ideas and viewpoints. 

Enjoy.