Coming Home

{Taking HUGE breath}

I feel like I'm making a journey home. To someplace more familiar. To this home where I was quite content. Just a little spot of the worldwide web that is, for me, perhaps a bit more comfortable.

Over two years ago, I obtained what I thought was a better virtual home. More grown up.  More sophisticated. Just the spot to launch my  blogging career.  Where I would become a serious writer. {At least, in  my own mind}

And Cleverly Molli is a lovely blog layout. Beautifully decorated by a professional. I spent several months just looking at it.  I became immobilized by the thought of writing words to put in it. So it was a beautiful showcase, not a home. And while I did finally write words there, last fall I temporarily closed up shop. I didn't delete the whole thing. I simply let it go for awhile.

This blog space always felt like my favorite chair.  I wasn't afraid when I was here. I blithely wrote what was on my heart and hit publish.

What changed?

I think my expectation of what I had to write changed.  I thought (silly me) I was playing in the big leagues because now I had put some money into my blog design and domain.  What was I thinking? 

I lost sight, somehow, of the reasons I enjoy writing.  I write because there are things in my head and my heart I need to figure out. I write because I have things to say. I write to tell stories.  I write to capture memories, feelings and events. I write because I love to put words together in such an order as to convey a feeling. I write because I can't paint pictures on canvas, so I have to paint pictures with words.

I write as insurance against the day I could be unable to express my thoughts and feelings, so the people I love and care for can come back and see the word pictures I've painted for them.  I write so my grandchildren will know my heart.

And quite frankly, the pretty site and snazzy graphics don't make the writing any more polished. Or the stories any funnier or more poignant. Or my insights any wiser.

So, why am I intimidated?

I don't know.

I only know this:  I am. I am intimidated. I also know this:  I need to write. So for just a bit, I think I'll come home to this comfy place and do just that. And try to find my voice again.

~Mollianne