It has been a while since I have blogged. The farm seems like it was so long ago and lifetimes away.  What started as a way to market my sheep and wool ended up as a way for me to find myself.   My routine of writing either in the morning or at night came to a halt this past year.  At first I thought that it was due to  being burned out from writing in seminary.  Then I realized that I was a bit burnt with self-reflection.  Too much of it being done in CPE.  Too much of it being done while discerning my call to head back to Vermont and to see if I was called to ordination as a parish minister.

I am not. I am neither called to ministry in a parish nor to Vermont, though I did give it my best shot.  I really did try.

And blogging while in the process would have been a total fluster cluck.   I was in a town that was too small, in  a state where everybody knows everybody else, while  also knowing what you happened to buy at Lantman’s for supper.  I lost my fearlessness for writing freely and started monitoring and censoring myself.

But I have missed it,  writing freely as if no one is watching.  And perhaps with this blog it will be like that, like no one  is watching.  At least that is the stance I am going to take.  My best writing is done when I don’t think to much about the reader.  I think only about what needs to be told.  Often I have no idea until I am done with the writing.  Then I sit back and I read my words and I write things that sometimes I wish I had the courage to actually say.

It feels good to write again.  I am glad to be back.