How to Save Your Own Life

Today is the second anniversary of this blog. But it feels more like a decade has passed since I first, with a heavy sigh, posted the words, "Alright, alright! I give up already!! It seems like forever that friends and admirers (no one has any standards anymore, I swear) have been nudging me to slap a blog into existence. So, here's my attempt."


I never expected it to last this long or mean as much to others as it has come to mean to me. As so many of you already know, it began as an attempt for me to deal with the inundating flux of feelings I was floundering in after losing John. It was like riding a tricycle through mud... I was getting nowhere fast. Solo introspection just left me in tears (talk about inundation!). I needed to get stuff out. I needed a sounding board... a wailing wall of my very own. So, bowing to the pressures of others (Thanks, Bill... Thanks, Laura) and creating this blog is one of the best things I've ever done for myself.


What I've learned about myself as I rambled along is: that amid the engulfing sadness there is a deep well of humor; amid the feeling of oh-god-how-do-I-go-on there is a feisty gypsy determined to hack her way through the briars in mere hope of being able spend some time in a sunny meadow again; amid the harsh reality there is a deep, and deeply defining, beauty. All three of those things remain as true today as they did two years ago.  Ultimately though, the notion that was brought home to me (in order for me to be a sane, happy individual) is this: I need to create no matter what whacky rabbit hole that creative force drags me down. I'd like to say I found myself, but if I was lost I was unaware. So, I think it would be more appropriate to say that this blog helped define me. (And I still hate the word blog!)


Clearly, if you've read any recent posts, my life is vastly different today than it was two years ago today. As I read through my old posts (all of 'em, pretentious twit that I am) it struck me (again and again) just how fast life can change. There is no real way to be prepared for any of the changes, good or bad. The best I can do is to keep defining the who of myself and hope that who will be a woman of honor in any situation. All I can do is all I can do, y'know?


And you, my Dear & Faithful Readers, I can't thank you enough for journeying with me; for keeping an eye to my telescope; for holding me accountable for my shit; for not being afraid to say "hey, wait just a damned minute, Barb!"; for caring enough to care that I'm okay; and for loving me whether I showed up crabby and unkempt, wiped out and wandering, or smiling and silly. Thank you for your ideas; for bouncing the ball back into my court; and for throwing me the occasional lifeline. I couldn't do it without you. Thank you.


Two years ago I sat here typing, my heart overflowing with sorrow, pain, and restlessness. Today as I sit here typing, my heart overflows with happiness, ease, and verve. Sure, I'll continue... *smile*... I can't not. Stick with me... I promise you good bean, an open mind, and a willing heart.


~You Are the Best Thing, Ray LaMontagne