I've been absent for a while.
My intentions were to spend hours and hours writing in my personal spaces, to empty out my mind and heart of everything that needed emptying, and then to fill myself back up again.
I set out to find a new path of understanding into myself these past few months, and I wish I could say that I was successful. Summertime came, I went back to school, I let regular life take over and I forgot to care for myself in the way I know I needed to.
I emptied my mind and heart half way, and let them be filled with a bit of a jumbled confusion that wasn't satiating at all. I emptied myself and drank down broken pieces of dreams, filling up on a cocktail of fragmented feelings and perceptions, mixed up like a pile of various jigsaw puzzles needing to be sorted out before being put back together.
I'm left with an understanding that I've got a lot more work to do here now, but I'll do my best to take on this job of sorting myself out. Alas it seems I'll have to empty out once more. Completely this time, properly. Write everything furiously out of me, empty that vessel of confusion until not a drop is left and then re-build.
This time, I'll craft the blocks out of reading again (healthy, nourishing, meaty things), playing my cello and my guitar in the spaces where I have nothing else to hold on to. I'll run. Not away from things, but into things, towards new experiences that'll bring me magic. I'll save up to buy my metalsmithing supplies and begin forging rings. And I'll write. I'll write out the bad on my own, and I'll write out the growth here, where I'm publicly accountable, where fear can be transformed into pursuasion and proper positivity with a beautiful intention.