For some bizarre reason, sometimes the more there is going on, the less I feel inclined to write. Despite the fact that, for me, writing is a proven processing assistant and during many an overwhelming time, I have turned to the documenting process to help things filter and sieve and settle – for these past few fat, busy weeks I have felt less inclined than usual to pick up a pen, or sit down at the keyboard.
I’d like to say it’s because I am tired, and by the early afternoon I am all but used up and need to get these Füße hoch. But we’re all tired. I’d also like to say it’s because I am just so frantically busy I don’t have time to sit down and write. But, like I said, come afternoon I am often flat out like a lizard drinking, on the couch, feet up, eating something (it’s the baby’s fault, she is constantly hungry). So busy? Yes and no and certainly not too busy to write.
The truth of the matter is, sometimes writing and I need a break from one another, or at least to sit in companionable silence for a while, not talking, dissecting, probing, solving, sharing, or bothering one another to find the right words and pinch and tweak a piece of writing into existence. And sometimes, like right now, the need for those companionable silences coincides with a time in life when a lot is going on, which is both frustrating but necessary at the same time.
I have also been giving some thought to how I want to continue blogging once our little addition arrives. How much do I want to put online, how much do I want to share about a family of three, two of which deserve and have a right to their privacy and anonymity, one of which will be far too small to know what that even means, let alone consent to having these rights breached. I love having this platform to write on and to write for, and I don’t at all plan on closing up shop. It is simply more a matter of re-calibrating and figuring out where the balance lies.
In the meantime, summer is going above and beyond its call of duty and producing some stunning light and colour at the moment. The birds are so happy, they sing until about 10.30pm which is slightly disorienting, but rather lovely. World Cup hysteria is creeping in, and will likely detonate tomorrow when Germany plays Portugal. Kieler Woche kicks off this coming Friday – it was a year ago we were here and starting to pack up to move back down to Bavaria. Two years ago that I was packing up to leave for Sydney. And time marches relentlessly on, wonderfully and scarily so, as I get bigger and she gets closer.
I think I just broke the silence.