For a while I have been afraid to write. Afraid of what might happen if I open my laptop and type it all out. I’ve been disappointed in my time management skills for fitting in my hobbies and passions. Thus, I just opted to avoid it all together. Then when time seemed to make space for me, I chose something else. Like sleep, or social media, or binge watching previously watched shows on Netflix. 

To be honest, I think I was scared I’d have nothing to say. That I had exhausted my well of interests and couldn’t muster the courage to be creative. I was scared people had stopped reading, stopped listening. I was, in all aspects of this writing thing, afraid. 

But, here I am, putting keys to Microsoft Word documents and writing again. Why? Because the fear came from being exhausted. I was burnt out on my own passion! I couldn’t even think to check the analytics on my own blog. I was tired. Wife, mom, senior project manager, sister, daughter, friend. Titles that are surely treasured in my life. But none of which belong to me. They belong to the people for whom I provide myself. This writing thing, though; this writing thing belongs to me. 

So, I got some rest. Not literally (I’m physically tired as I type this). I got some rest from the blog. Some rest from combing the mines of my brain for truths and inspiration and art. Rest from the pressure of writing weekly and posting the same. Rest from the stress of social media marketing (yuck). Rest from what is mine so that I could return to it refreshed and revived with the energy to see it through. 

To avoid burnout going forward, I’ll be scheduling regular resting breaks each month. Breaks from writing, posting to the blog, posting to social media, and promoting it on every story. But, I’m damn happy to be back.