Our dear cat Reggie is slowly making her way to the finish line of life. She’s moving a little slower and eating less. Her once raucous meows are now sounding fragile. A little over a year ago we received devastating news that her kidneys were failing. Thankfully, fluid therapy (basically kitty dialysis) has extended her time here, but the inevitable decision to have her put down is always around the corner. When is the right time to say goodbye to our furry gal? Do we wait until she’s on death’s door or do we let her go when she has some vitality left? I have found these questions have no clear answer.
In a similar, yet much less tragic, vein there is the question of when and how you say goodbye to blogging. You might have noticed I’ve not been very active here, as of late. March was an especially busy month, but in reality my posts have been sporadic at best since discovering I had a tumor in my hip last year. If there’s one thing successful blogging takes it’s time, which I seem to have little of lately. You must take time to research topics to write about, time to write, time to edit, time to engage your audience by at least acknowledging their comments or questions, time to build a rapport with other bloggers by reading and commenting on their posts. Blogging is one big, bawdy, hilarious time suck, assuming you know the bloggers I do.
I’ve been reading an amazing book, The Barn at the End of the World. Feeling that I would do an injustice by trying to summarize it, I will just say that it is a practical look at the Buddhist concept of Middle Way living through the eyes of a Catholic, Quaker, Buddhist, apprentice shepherd. See, there is no way to describe it, one must just read it to get it. Reading this book has given me a new perspective on how I should always be pondering the best use of my precious time. Not that I haven’t already been thinking about this since my surgery. The idea of fleeting time has punctured most of my daily thoughts from the moment the anesthesia wore off.
My surgery in December, coupled with my loss of mobility, wholly changed me. When I regained the ability to walk I wanted to go everywhere, all the time, at top speed. Sadly, I discovered this was not to be. The more active I am, the more my leg tends to swell, the more my muscles ache. So I’ve had to slow down, slap on some Spanx (medically approved I assure you), and take it all as it comes. I may one day be as physically active as I once was, but I’ll never be “me” again. That was the part that frightened me the most prior to surgery, but the part that excites me the most post surgery.
There are very few times in your life where you are handed the gift of clarity. In my experience it’s usually preceded by some catastrophic event. That is certainly the case here. I’ve been carved up like a Christmas goose, but I’m still alive and kicking. So, I have to ask myself, what do I want to do with this? Do I want to sit for hours writing and reading, have my leg cramp up from inactivity? Or, do I want to read a good book, take a walk on the beach with Husband, draw sidewalk chalk aliens with Little One, or discuss the worth of Twisted Sister’s music with Teen? The answer seems obvious.
It’s not that I have not adored and valued the time I put into this place. I’ve been entertained, transfixed, influenced, and overjoyed by most of it, but I think the time to devote less of my time here is now. I may still write occasionally, and read your blogs as well, but it just won’t be nearly as consistent as it’s been in the past. I’ve made friends with some of you, to the delight of my soul. That carries on as usual, and for that I’m eternally thankful. It’s not every day you meet the mix of souls I’ve been fortunate enough to meet here. It simply would not have happened if not for WordPress.
So thank you, thank you, thank you, for reading and writing and commenting and laughing with me. I wish I had enough time to squeeze it all in all the time, but I don’t. So, I’ll just have to settle for popping in now and again. You’ve made me a better writer, a better reader, a freer spirit, a kinder soul. You’re fucking amazing people, each and every one of you, and I’m just lucky as hell to know you.