Was talking with a friend yesterday and learned that I don't blog enough for her to actually read my writing. And I thought, okay, awesome. Telling it like it is. Can't really beat that. I think it's pretty healthy to have people in our lives with less of a filter than our own. And that's one of the many reasons I like her. But it also made me realize some barriers keeping me from writing more, too. Like saying there's a lot on my mind, a lot to get done, and kind of getting lost in it. But quite often, writing feels like the "anti-lost". So I think the conversation was meant to happen.
It's afternoon reading and nap time on this glorious frigid Saturday, and the covers are no stranger. Caught something beautiful from Anais Nin: "We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another." Sobering. We run after goals and sink into training plans, but can neglect some pretty substantial stuff. Like overlooking barriers to doing what we love. Growth is slow, painful, clarifying. Which makes me think there are some things we cannot learn alone.