Sometimes I can’t believe I don’t write as much as I used to.
Not that I found it hard to write. I think simply put, I enjoyed trying to figure how to put my ideas into words. The Shang dynasty people did it, so did the Egyptians. So why can’t I?
I recently tried to pick up the pen (well not literally since the computer has taken over my life) and write a Statement of Purpose that I might want to use in pursuit of a higher education. I realized my lack of ability not only to think but to recall half the stuff I read at school. All I remember was how these words constantly inspired me to pursue what I did but I cannot for my life remember the exact content.
Perhaps my memory is failing me.
Or just perhaps I have found something else I prefer to do in life?
Maybe its both.
There are days when I come home exhausted just by THINKING of how to get my kids to understand what I am trying to convey. I am not even trying to live by the lofty ideals that I once believe the power of studying history can bring but merely forcing myself to come to terms that not everyone will love the subject and not everyone will understand the subject.
I think after a while, people stop caring. I hope I don’t. But I guess in order to run the “marathon” its impossible to always remain passionate.
I do love the kids but I also need to get my mind to stop worrying. Maybe when that happens, I’ll be able to start writing again. Writing about the things I love, the things I don’t, the people I love and the people I don’t quite love. The moments I care about and the moments I can live without.
I’m running along on gut instincts now.
