I miss me when I’m not here.
For the past few days I’ve been checking in, hoping against hope that someone might have hacked in and ghost-written me a post. Something witty and heartfelt, maybe. Or uplifting and inspiring. Even something wicked and bitchy.
But no. Every time I check, it’s the same: “Yosemite Boots.”
When a blog is called “Inspiration Location,” and its stated purpose is to hunt down inspiring things and champion them, and the author is feeling so, so…
Let’s just put it this way.
If I was a car, I would have something ominous rattling under my hood. So I’ve pulled over and I’m not driving (writing) until it’s fixed.
I watched the documentary, “Gasland” the other night and it has put me into a complete state of despair. What was illustrated in that documentary is precisely what’s in the process of happening here, in this place, at this very moment. “Gasland” is the future of Mansfield.
Ever since I saw it, I’ve been trying NOT to despair, and I am calling on all my practices to teach me how think about this (or not think about it).
“In a moment of difficulty, practice serenity.”
This is what I have been training all these years to be able to do, so I am trying to stay conscious and aware and witness it all, dispassionately and reasonably.
But what this might mean for a blog called “Inspiration Location” is that I may not be able to write happy, chirpy, “rainbows and unicorns” kind of posts for awhile because I’m feeling mighty low on inspiration.
It’s like my car’s in the shop and until I can get her up and running again, I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer here, doing a whole hand-wringing, what’s-going-to-happen-to-us trip.
(I really hope I don’t need a whole new transmission.)