hopeful and fearful.

I feel compelled to say something. What? I haven’t been here in ages (or months, more literally). I lost my way a bit with my writing. I took a class this fall, and wrote some things, and was fired up for more, and then it petered out when the class ended. I’m still writing in the mornings, though not as consistently as I have been.

When I feel caged, mostly by myself, I get the urge to come back here. It’s such a silly thing, my self-imposed trap. I work to make money and let days blur one into the other. There is more, you know. How often do you wish to distract yourself?

I’m not much for resolutions, but I do like to think about goals and intentions. I’ll try harder to read more this year. I’m planning to keep a more careful fitness log because I’m going to run a marathon. I’m craving deliberateness and intentionality.

The sun is shining bright in Chicago this morning. I woke up at 6AM, and lingered in the half-awake and half-asleep place for another two hours. I dreamed up scenes from something I might write. When I woke up, Jacob juiced a grapefruit, and I drank the juice.

It’s the new year! It feels hopeful and fearful, right?