It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. I’ve gone from the stillness of my island back to the lushness of Kenya.
I am still unsure of what this space is to me, for me. I love writing and I do miss it.
What happens when you are a part of one world but long to be invisible enough to become a part of another?
Therein lies my struggle, a struggle.
I write to remember. I write to share, inspire, with hope that my story may touch yours. It’s why I read blogs, essays, memoirs, novels. To see myself, find myself. So often I laugh or cry when reading and whisper, me too!
I love all the comments I receive here, private messages sent to me, but they feel like a fan page for a long ago person that I no longer wear. There has been such a disconnect from the messages I receive to what I have been putting out that it’s made me pause. It has made me step back and silence myself.
But now I am full and eager to find my fingers on the keys again.
Perhaps harmony will meet me halfway.