Begin Again

It’s been a minute. More than three-quarters of a million of them, actually.

Not too long ago, I purchased the domain “” … because it’s true. (It just points right back here.)

The last time I posted was November 30, 2019. We’d never even heard of COVID-19. Also:

  • I’d not yet turned 50.
  • I’d not yet discovered consuming caffeine makes me feel like I’m going to die.
  • Breonna Taylor was still alive. So was George Floyd. Ahmaud Arbery. Duante Wright. So many more.
  • Harry and Megan were still royals.
  • I had no earthly idea I’d be adding “Birdie” to my list of identities.
  • I still had a kid in college.
  • We’d never imagined our Capitol’s vulnerabilities. 
  • RBG still reigned.
  • Live music was still a thing. Instagram Reels weren’t.
  • WordPress hadn’t switched to this ridiculously frustrating new publishing format. (Maybe it’s not new. Again, it’s been a minute.)

You get the idea.

I’ve been doing plenty of writing over the past 18 months—for other people. But I’m finally coming to understand just how not-good-for-my-mental-health that is. So I’ve made a commitment to write for myself at least twice a week for a least an hour each time. I imagine most of it’ll be garbage. But it’ll be my garbage.

I’m sure I’ve made this commitment before. But since my last post, I’ve also discovered mindfulness meditation, and I’m enamored with the idea of begin again. 

To be clear: I’m not great at mindfulness meditation. Right now, it’s a win if I open the 10% app once a week. But I’m learning to be gentle with myself. To live “with ease.”

Anyway. Here I am. Let’s begin again together.