It’s been a weird year for me. I say that with the shock of someone who was intending to write “a weird few months”, and then started counting, and then ran out of fingers.
Since October last year I’ve been involved in projects that for one way or another, have discouraged idle gabbling. I’m not sure that’s been good for me. It’s given me a chance to think a great deal and get far ahead on some topics, but now I feel pretty lonely and a little insecure. I don’t feel I’ve done what I should really have done all along, which is bring others along with me for the ride. I know all this extra stuff, and it was delicious learning it all. But now it feels like just a big pile of boiled potatoes in my stomach.
I’m out of practice at being open. Or not completely open, but that half-way state that most people who have online public exposure built into their daily lives, that state of having the doors to their life slightly ajar.
I have an office now. I love having an office; after six months, I still get a little burst of delight when I walk in there. I love being able to close the door when I’m calling people, so I can concentrate on just what they are saying. Often I forget to open the door after the call. A few minutes later, I snap to attention and pull the door ajar again, because I can’t hear the buzz of what’s going on outside, and somehow that drives me a little crazy. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything; I feel like I’m missing.
I feel like when you’re sitting in the forest clearing, and it’s been very peaceful and quiet, but your good sense tells you it’s time to turn around and go back, because it’s a long way home, and it’s getting dark, and you have some friends who are wondering where you are.