Not retired, just tired (again)

When I began this blog, I deliberately set no expectations for when or whether I would post on it. A key part of this Mary Oliver Challenge that I have set for myself is learning to distinguish what I really want, at any given moment, from my own expectations or the ones that (I perceive) other people have for me. The seemingly simple question—“what do you want, Carole?”—gets so tangled up in what I think I should do that it becomes hard to tell the difference. So I have been determined not to let the blog become a “should.”

Still, I feel bad that I haven’t written here in more than a month.

Why do I feel bad? It is partly the shoulds, as hard as I try to banish them. Like the Black Plague victim in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the shoulds are not dead yet. But I also miss blogging. I miss having the creative energy to post here. I miss having the emotional fortitude to report on how my psychic renovation project is—and is not—progressing. I miss the feedback that I get when I write something that resonates with one of you, the elite few who read this stuff.

As for why I haven’t been posting—well, I still don’t have quite enough creative energy and emotional fortitude to explain that yet. I hope they will come soon. In the meantime, I’ll just say that I’ve been tired, one of the periodic bouts of fatigue that makes me wonder, yet again, whether it arises solely from the emotional work I’ve taken on, or whether there is also some medical problem that’s kicking my tush.

While I renew that investigation, I am hoping to return soon to my little blogosphere, because there’s a lot I would like to say. As I remarked recently to someone about my current period of voluntary unemployment: “I’m not retired; I’m just tired.” Again.

What is the Mary Oliver Challenge? Glad you asked! You can read about it here.

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