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They say that when we pray, we talk to God, and when we meditate, we listen.  Given that, let me inform you all that I’ve recently been talking my ass off. It wasn’t until the other day that I had the presence of mind to put this ass of mine on a pillow and see if I might gently take my sock, and insert it into my mouth.  In a brief moment of meditation, I was divinely guided back to this blog.

It started as I explained to God that I was running late to class, and that he or she had just two minutes to give some sort of guidance (of course, God understands that stillness is relative during the school year.)  I spent about 30 seconds of those two minutes continuing to blab about my state: having found myself in a place of formerly unsurpassed abundance in life, I explained that I’ve recently had the same feeling I get when I haven’t gone to yoga in too many days, or haven’t seen dear friends in too long of a time. I felt stuck. It didn’t make any sense to me – I’ve been upside-down pretty regularly since returning from Europe this summer, and it seemed like moments alone and moments spent with those I love have been very well-balanced.  I’m also in my last semester of college, so my course load isn’t exactly taking a toll on my sanity when it includes photography and voice lessons. As I rudely rambled on during God’s alloted time on the stand, I heard my answer.

“What happened to your writing?”

If God is in fact the voice within, which is one belief of several that I subscribe to, then my voice within was screaming for a pen.

I habitually write almost every morning and evening, and throughout the day when I can.  Recently though, after a whirlwind of activity over the summer, writing had fallen off of my radar without my noticing. I’ve just returned from about 4 months of on-and-off traveling, starting my summer adventure in London, making my way through Europe to Spain, Italy, and France, pit stopping in Texas (had to take my big hair, which is currently not so big, back to its roots,) returning to London, and spending my last two weeks of summer in Israel.  After hurricane Irene left me stuck in the land of milk and honey right up until my moving date, I practically jumped right out of the Dead Sea and into a moving frenzy, haphazardly moving everything I own out of my old apartment and up three flights of stairs.  I have spent most of my time since then unpacking, unwinding, and contemplating the integration of my “eat, love, repeat” European spirit with the girl who’s got to get herself a real-life job in about three months.  Somewhere in the mix, my favorite creative outlet got lost in the pile of old winter clothes and dusty picture frames.  I’m happy to now be sipping on my third Pumpkin Spice Latte of fall as I resume writing in the blog that brings me back to life each time I write in it.

After four months off, it’s wonderful to come back to my WordPress dashboard and see that visitors are still frequenting this blog on a regular basis.  I hope to resume writing in it and turning my journey into something tangible as my last semester and first steps into the working world begin to unfold.

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