Two things can be said about why I haven't written in awhile.
Okay, maybe three.
First, I didn't want to. Quite simple really.
Second, I had found myself looking at life and people through a new filter. This would be the "opposite of rose coloured glasses" kind of filter. It was a filter which highlighted and magnified the glaring fact that people are hardly ever what they seem. And that sometimes, they are downright evil. It took some getting used to.
Third, knowing that I was now looking at people through this filter, you wouldn't have wanted to read what I had to write. Trust me on that one.
And then one Sunday night, as I sat at my piano and played for the first time since August, I felt a change. A lifting. A lightness.
Filter still there? Check.
Circumstances all the same? Check.
But something new. Something different.
It was a lifting, a lightening. A knowing that despite everything I had seen, all the ugly, all the pain (and not all of it my own), there was still good. There was still light. I believe it can all be summed up in a little word. A little word called hope.
And the thing I have to say about it, about all of it, is that when you are faced with change and you're scared and you're anxious to make the decisions that need making, this. Just this:
Embrace the change.
Let the change wrap itself around you, pick you up off your feet and take you for a spin while you cling for dear life. Because it will feel that way, like you're clinging for dear life. But when you land again and you take a peak to see what it is you're left with, you'll be saying these words:
"I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."
All that stifling black and white and all those devious shades of grey will be gone and before you will be a road full of adventure, excitement and yes, even danger. But a road full of colour.
Why on earth would we hang on to grey when we can have colour?
Because if grey is all we've known in awhile, then anything else is too frightening to consider. Grey is at least safe.
But then you could be like me and resist the obvious, the necessary change, for so long that you discover the hard way, grey is not safe. Grey most definitely is not safe at all.
Take my word for it; don't wait too long. Don't wait.
Embrace the change.
We left a church. That was good.
We left a school. That also was good.
We are moving from the house we built and have loved every single day for over five years.
We are leaving this town. This town I have loved and in which I have lived longer than any other. The only town my babies have known. The town in which I thought we had laid roots for our family.
And we know that what lies ahead will be good. Because it is full of hope and it is full of colour. And beauty and life and friendship and music and poetry. And fun and new things and exciting things and adventure. And love and laughter.
Lots of love and laughter.
So I have embraced change and gone for a spin. We haven't quite landed yet, but I know that when we do, the filter will still be there. We will still look at events and people with new seeing eyes, knowing there is potential for danger even in this new and colourful world.
But I know it's right. I know it's right to move on and I'll be honest with you, dear readers...
I'm fairly bursting with the excitement of it.