It’s been so long since I checked on my little corner of the World-Wide-Web that I completely forgot my password to this here blog.
Actually, I totally forgot about this blog’s existence until I was reminded of it yesterday.
If you’ve looked at the post history of this blog, you’ll quickly find that I’m a bit of a scattershot writer; I’ll write feverishly for a few weeks and then I’ll slowly slip into more of a once a week mode, followed by a now-and-then schedule, and finally I just quit writing altogether.
That pattern is true of so many things in my life.
Maybe I stop writing because I feel like I’ve said what I need to say; maybe the catharsis of writing has cleansed me of whatever emotional tangent I was on.
Or maybe I get lazy. Or too tired.
Last summer when I stopped blogging, I stopped because I was tired. The articling year is not an easy one, and given the amount of words I’d put into emails and memos everyday, I think I felt like I didn’t have much left to say in the evenings.
There was also the fact that my laptop keyboard was malfunctioning and finally got to the point where e\very wor\d h\ad these sl\ashes in it an\d I could ha\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\rdly type any\more.
That problem has been solved.
As I’ve said before after rather long sabbaticals from the blogosphere, coming back to my blog with fresh eyes after months away from it brings a new perspective. Past events blur together and instead of individual posts I see an evolving sense of self and perspective.
For instance, there’s no doubt that I’ve mellowed over the years. I was at a conference last week, sitting among a number of students who were complaining about the lack of diversity and self-congratulatory tone at the conference. I remember being like those students are. Now? I’m a bit more pragmatic about what I spend my energy on, and I must admit that this realization was rather stunning.
And I suppose that same pragmatism forms the basis of my relationship to this blog these days. It’s here when I need it.