The problem with being absent from a blog for nearly six months is that your return becomes ever more difficult.
a) You should explain the absence,
b) You’ve no explanation to offer because you just stared into space the whole time,
c) You loathe to admit you stared into space the whole time.
Though “stared into space” might be the wrong way to put it. Right about the time I vacated this space, I returned to the office full-time after a year of working from home, due to that crazy, world-wide pandemic thing we have going on.
So perhaps it’s understandable that suddenly having to be dressed and presentable, actually encountering other living, breathing human beings on a regular basis, took some getting used to.
Leading me to sit, staring into space.
And while I claimed in my last post I was leaving to pursue other creative endeavors, I neglected to mention those endeavors were all work-related. By the time I got home from said work, other than trying a few new recipes and sewing one skirt – one skirt! – my creative output was at an all-time low.
I know there was a time I worked full-time, yet somehow managed to keep a blog going. The proof is right here on my archives page. Loads of posts, some not half bad, but how I found the time to write them – in some cases draw them – I can’t say.
Whether my feelings are a late case of pandemic stress, pandemic blues, Covid-fatigue… who’s to say? Probably someone who makes much more an hour than I do, so we’ll let the matter pass. However the pandemic has caused most of us to evaluate how we were spending our time pre-2020. Many of us were left to wonder, did we really want to return to our usual mode of living?
In truth, my relationship to this blog had stalled. I simply wasn’t enjoying it as much as I once did. I know the amount of time it involved was a big one, but also just the amount of headspace I gave it, trying to come up with ideas or wondering if anyone would understand what I wrote.
In any case, the long absence was much needed if only to help me reestablish what I wanted Feeding on Folly to be. And although this time was terribly frustrating, causing me to wonder if I would ever write again, I tried to be patient with myself.
It brought to mind a poem one of the Franciscan Sisters shared with me last year. Here’s an excerpt…
you must know how hard it is
to be in this between
where nothing is certain,
everything’s in flux,
this relentless churning
from something I can’t quite grasp
to something I can’t quite see,
and it’s all up for grabs,
and – please, God –
Later in the poem,
Keen my awareness
that uncertainty is my dance with you,
crises, seraphim in disguise…
I love his title — Seraphim in disguise. A lesson, perhaps, not to avoid the struggle but to lean into it. My next course of action would present itself in time. I needed to trust the process.
Coupled with that, however, is a lesson from our good friend Kierkegaard:
“What matters is not the choice you make,
but that you get off your duff and make a damn choice already.”
Clearly, a system reboot was needed.
I decided to follow a morning routine I devised during a far more productive time in my life: wake early, cold shower, centering prayer, yoga, a cup of tea and commence writing.
As I wrote, the answer to my muddled thinking presented itself. I knew what I wanted this blog to be.
I want it to be the kind of blog I enjoy reading. The kind that teaches me something, gives me something to think about or smile over (ideally, both), and maybe gives me a few reading recommendations as well.
So that’s our game plan for the future. I might not be posting as often but when I do, for those so gracious as to visit Feeding on Folly, I want it to be worthy of your time.
Below are a few things I hope you’ll like: items I’m currently enjoying, things that made me smile, plus a few past features readers seemed to appreciate. This is a work in progress, so I hope you’ll stick around to see what comes of it.
In the meantime, thanks for visiting today. I hope you found it time well spent.
Be well, my friends.
Bad Theology Spotlight
Spotted in a shop window…
Be the crow you want to see in the world.
Collect shiny objects.
Hop happily down the street for no apparent reason.
Scream loudly when you see your friends.