One step.

So, I'd really like to start being more diligent with blogging (hopefully)… how many times have I said that?! Far too many, for sure. But it's a new day to try again. I'd like to begin Music Mondays, Wednesday Words, and Photo Fridays, at the very least. Today is Wednesday, therefore, I should probably have some words to say… 

Well let me start with a big *SIGH*. The past little while of life has been the toughest and most confusing for me yet. I've come face to face with the somewhat brutal reality that everything I say, as far as what I believe goes, is pretty darn shallow, and I need to do some re-evaluating. I'm so quick to judge, so quick to assume, so quick to point fingers at others when they struggle, lose hope, slip into a direction that doesn't look so good.

I've been a mess. A complete mess, inside, outside, all around. My mind has been so foggy. I'm being honest here, with an internet audience, which is so strange. But I have been so angry, so bitter inside, so weak. Everything means nothing to me, and I so badly crave the joy that could be mine, and I know it could be. So instead of staring at any one of the interior walls of my apartment, I got outside. I didn't run. I haven't for a while. I walked. With music in my ears, and the music was songs of praise, worship, something I haven't been able to bring myself to do for quite sometime now. Bitter taste in my mouth, I decided to sing. I sang, and walked, and I didn't care who heard. I reached the water, the path, I couldn't keep it in. I danced, and let go. I just let go, and I didn't care how silly I looked or how crazy. And I saw a heron. At the very moment I stopped dancing. A heron right in front of me. 

I wrote a post not too long ago about a heron, flying. and how I whispered to him, don't take it for granted, and how I wished I could fly. And how maybe that's what life is for. To be free and to fly.

I heard a voice inside me, that God-voice saying, I want you to fly.  And it seemed, at that moment, that I could leave things behind, those painful, heavy things. I could leave them there, where there were no cars or people or houses, or noises, just Earth-life and silence, and water, and a heron in front of me.

I walked back more full of spirit, more full of something. Something, instead of all this nothing that has been there for so long.

Here is a sort of wordless song-like thing I recorded today -- I think it's a musical version of my day in some way.

Bye for now! x