This is my 500th post. I started this blog in response to Julia Cameron's, The Artist's Way and being posed the question, what would I do if it didn't have to be perfect? Somtimes I've loved blogging and sometimes I've hated it. I've found it a source of inspiration and of pressure. It's been a way of making friends and keeping in touch with friends. A way of reflecting on my days and voicing my thoughts. I've learned that uncomfortable weight of thinking that it's time I blogged but I don't have anything to say. I have worried that I am too upbeat and it reads like the worst kind of Christmas newsletter, full of how brilliant my children are, and yet that it might be litany of depression, fear and anxiety. I've blogged every day for month, and also taken a stretch of time "off' when it became one burden too many.
I wanted to prepare and write something special for this milestone, but, as I am learning is the case, life does not follow my timetable and when I try to force specialness it is false or strained and yet moments occur of beauty and joy without my intention.