**Note, I started this post several days ago and didn’t finish it. I just didn’t feel like I was writing the way that I used to, or would like to, or “should”. All kinds of silly reasons to abandon a post, but whatever. I’ve been trying to hop back into the art of writing that I have loved, on and off, my entire life. After completing that marathon I was exhausted in so many ways and then lots was happening here at home that required my energy and attention, and then Thanksgiving, and on and on with the reasons/excuses for my absence here. I really desire to get back to regular blogging, regular writing. Lots of changes have happened with me over the last two years so I’m hoping “Writing Mel” is still alive here. I believe she is, and we are just dusting her off a bit. Bear with me, por favor. Gracias. Now back to the original post.**

I noticed when I logged onto WordPress today that they had a writing prompt; the question was “what will your life look like in three years?”. Which is interesting to me, because I was just hopping on here to tell you about a discussion I had with my husband recently that was along these lines. We were basically discussing whether we were content with our lives. And if asked that question, I would say that absolutely, I am content. However, if you had asked me 15 years ago if I would have chosen this life for myself, the answer would have been “hell, no.” I would never have chosen to be disabled and unable to work a job. Having multiple sclerosis, being deaf *and* half-blind, simply put – SUCKS. But I’m 10 years into this, and while it’s taken time, I’ve slowly learned to see (not literally, unfortunately lol) and be thankful for the benefits that have come from it. I’ve learned from these struggles. They have made me who I am today, and I love who that is.

I feel like I’m coming into a new season of life. I’m done training for marathons (for the next few years, at least). My kids are teenagers and can feed themselves (and prefer to, actually). The dogs are pretty low maintenance. So now I’m at a point where I’m learning how to rest. I’m learning how to be okay with sitting still. For as long as I can remember, I have had trouble with sitting still. Not that I physically can’t, but that when I do, there is a general unease felt underneath my skin and deep in my spirit. Like I’m “supposed” to be doing something. I’m often noticing my shoulders are hunched up and I need to consciously pull them back down.

I was actually discussing this general unease with a friend the other day, and she expressed how completely opposite she was from me in this regard, and we had a laugh. She seemed like she was saying she rests too much, and finds herself procrastinating. Sounds a bit like we would do well if we came more to the other’s side and met in the middle. But then where would be the fun in that? I love the variety I see in all of my friends and family members. It’s funny to me the things we experience and think are normal for everybody, when really we are all so different in so many ways. It makes life a lot more interesting, and brings us closer together as we support each other in our areas of strength and weakness.

So back to the season of rest. That’s where I am currently. I still have an ongoing list in my head of all the things I want to *do*, but I’m trying to be more kind to myself. While I’ll never regret running that second marathon, I will admit that I made the commitment without full consideration of my limits; physically, mentally, emotionally. So you could say I’m taking a break. Ish. A semi-break. Evaluating what I value most, and then easing those things back in. It feels a little like riding an inner tube on a lazy river. I’m enjoying it so far.

And that, my friends, is a little taste for you of the rambling that goes on in my brain on the daily. You are welcome. See you next time.