Where have I been? In my own little water globe it seems. Mission in action, because my life, at the moment, is like a vortex tunnel. You know, the spinning tunnels typically set up at haunted attractions and amusement parks…. The quantum jump started almost two years ago now, when I noticed an influx of clumsiness. With what seemed like a glance, I was dropping snifters glasses and Mason jars all over the house. I even spilled a few drinks. Turns out, breaking glass represents the end of an era and a new beginning. A year later, I became a first time mom to a beautiful little blonde boy, who will be turning one this October. Who knew the conscious mind can experience both an acceleration and deceleration of time all at once.

I try to be cognizant and absorb all that I can, but feeling of impossibility always creep in. This rhythm of immense pressure feels not like the end of an era, but the end of many different cycles in my life, and at the same time, the first day of abnormality and hope in a new year. Focuses shift, thoughts are wild, strengths become weaknesses, the little things become big things, tears are shed, and heart are full. I keep thinking back to, ironically, something Andy Bernard said in the U.S. version of The Office, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days, before you have actually left them.” The thing is, I know I am in the good old days, and I want to cherish them before something else shifts or commandeers my attention.

There is so much I realized while on maternity leave. Quirks about myself, others, and the world as is. Maybe I was left with too much time to think, or maybe it wasn’t enough. I’m not quite sure. What I do know is, about a week ago, while driving with my son, I had an inkling of a thought about poetry and prose, and I knew right then, it was time for me to start blogging again. I was waiting for that creative side of me to emerge after almost a year hiatus. I hope to, one day, bring my son on my blogging travels and adventures. Right now he is a bit too young to fully comprehend, and travel is tough.

Still, we participated in many activities this summer. With those pursuits, I realized how inaccessible New England really is. Navigating the wheels on a stroller, seeking out family friendly restrooms, restaurants, and spaces is driven by extreme apprehension, not just from the unknown, but from fear of the chaos that could result. Nevertheless, we managed to find our way around Falmouth, Cape Cod, Bar Harbor, Maine, and Jackson, New Hampshire, as well as many other local destinations. We are so lucky. We are in the good old days, and we know it. I never want to end this chapter of life. I would like keep reading repeatedly until I feel satisfied and then maybe I will flirt with the idea of propelling forward…with no commitments though.

As my son approaches his first birthday, and as, what seems like, the beginning of many, fairly new, eras is fading, I thought it important to take note. So one day, maybe, I can look back and and read chapters of my own book, the little blog of magic, and recall how I once lived, and share that with my son. I plan to reveal to him the inner workings of my thoughts, as contradictory as they can be, and how the mind is like a vortex that never seizes.

Currently I am unsure what the next few months will bring, or even next year. My mind has a hefty agenda, but my body is tired. I assume that will become more prevalent with age, or maybe I will finally learn to slow down. Right now I find my hands trying to give up typing, but my mind doesn’t know how to quit, because if I do, this blog post feels very much finished and that is not how I want to leave it, in a state of uncertainty.

As I slowly navigate back to myself and steer towards one of many new chapters to come, I suspect, when all is said and done, I shall be, a master juggler, a jokester, a thoughtful sap, an ole’ mum, a new sprout, a seasoned blogger, a wild dreamer, a working professional, and a crazed maniac all the same, searching for time, when there is ever less and less of it. So therefore the wild dreamer in me will make it, in my own time, with my own time! Ticking around the very thoughts in my head, striking at new ideas, measuring motives and indicating moments to never forget.