A few years ago I watched a wonderful movie called “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”, about a young Indian man with a dream to run his own hotel. In the middle of juggling one disaster after another, he told a resident the following:
“Everything will be alright in the end. If it is not alright, it is not yet the end.”
What has this got to do with me? I’ll try to explain. I stopped writing a personal blog about two weeks ago now. After writing pretty consistently for the past fifteen years, something inside of me snapped. Sure, I’ve struggled with writing in the past – anybody that writes will tell you all about that – but this time it felt different.
Here’s the funny thing though – after a couple of weeks away from the routine of sitting at the keyboard and emptying my head, I’m wondering if I did the right thing. Wondering if there might be an “act two” in me after all. Hell fire though – if the first act lasted for fifteen years, the next act will take me through to retirement. I wonder what I’ll be writing about when I’m seventy years old? Probably a constrant stream of complaints about chocolate bars not being what they used to be, kids not knowing how good they have everything, and about the grandchildren muddling up the cutlery drawer.
I’ve missed this. I’ve missed emptying my head into the keyboard late on an evening. I’ve missed having these bizarre conversations with myself about nothing of consequence. I’m not sure publishing it all to the internet is a tremendously useful thing to do, but it has lead to some of my closest, most cherished friendships.
I suppose in a roundabout sort of way, this is me saying I might be back after all. Back to writing a little more regularly, a little more randomly, and a little more candidly.