In my drinking days, I had a habit of slipping away from the party or the bar without saying goodbye. I’d simply wander home to bed. I’ve no idea why I did it. Perhaps because I always feel awkward extracting myself from social situations. With my inhibitions pacified by too much alcohol, it was easier just to walk away. 

I have this ruthless inner critic that often screams at me that I am a failure. That tells me I am coming up with  ideas or projects, that I start but don’t finish. There is a meek, yet persistent, part that thinks I am forever disappointing people. Both of these are not true of course. Still, these parts are there, and have succeeded in the past in getting what they want. They’ve kept me from doing things and not allowed me to stop doing other things.

I write these deep confessions to you in the early morning hours of the last day of April as the rain falls heavy on the bright green grass and the birds splash in the puddles and preen themselves in the still bare branches, because I don’t want to simply walk away. I do not want to continue to ignore what I know to be true.

I came to the conclusion last night that it was time to take a different path with my writing. To stop publishing on the blog.  It seems fitting to stop here, in the middle of the change of seasons, a change that promotes growth. 

I still have hundreds of essay ideas and poems in the queue, which I plan to develop and write. Perhaps these will find their way onto the blog someday. It all depends on where this new adventure leads me. I am excited to see what is to come. 

I want to thank you, dear reader, for your support. Even if we have never communicated, I feel blessed that other people, beyond my immediate family and friends, have read my work. I hope that my writing has brought a smile to your face, made you see the world in a different light, or helped you in some way. 

Hold Fast. Slow Yourself Down. Unshackle the Joy.