It seems a season of returns, for me. I just barely returned to work after having to take off three weeks due to an urgent medical issue. I am about to return to the classroom, after a summer away from teaching responsibilities. Earlier this season I returned to vegetable gardening, a hobby that’s been on hold for about five years. And perhaps most largely, I feel as though I am returning to being myself again, after several months (years, even) of struggling with health challenges that left me drained of my typical vim.
I have intentions of other returns, soon. As soon as my doctor gives me the thumbs-up, I will return to outrigger canoeing and to daily yoga and to evening neighborhood walks and to globe-trotting. I expect that not to be far away(!).
It seems that I also have the inclination to return to writing. For so many (many) months I simply lost interest. It felt like anything I wanted to say had already been said. Or that I simply wanted to read long novels and putter in the soil and giggle with friends and watch BBC comedies, instead of throwing out my thoughts at a keyboard.
But those writing feelings are coming back again. I don’t know if they’ll stick or if they’ll get subsumed in the other stuff that’s keeping me busy these days.
We shall see.