It has been three long months since I have found the motivation, the courage to write. So many thoughts not recorded, so many stories untold. The adventure of my life has always propelled me forward, and yet, in these several weeks, despite the highs and lows, I have been unable to gather my thoughts into a format which lends itself to this place.

This is the first time I have prepared what is for me a journal entry, something very personal, yet published here for all to see. No, I did not venture to another country. I did not climb a higher rock. I did not wake from a vivid dream. Rather, the unfolding of this journey is inside of me.

I knew this time was coming, the desire to grow strong, for in recent communications I have found that my words were rhyming without intent, my sentences flowing, matching prose to song.

Something was coming alive, in an otherwise dead space, wanting to see the light of day again where only shadows did waste.

It’s time to breathe again.
It’s time to shake free the mud.
It’s time to find solace in the open spaces.
new comfort after the loss of love.