Last week I came in just before bedtime after an evening with friends. Stella and I had just settled down to read a book on Hammerhead Sharks when, in an effort to research the differences between sharks and dolphins, we feel down the rabbit hole that is the internet. We ended up rereading so many of our blog entries from our time in Brazil. The funny videos of the kids speaking Portuguese, the baby pictures of Stella, and even the seemingly unremarkable details of our life in Sao Paulo held us captive way past our normal bedtime routine. I didn’t fret over the pointlessness of a post or the imperfections in the photographs,
I simply enjoyed looking back on whatever little moments I managed to capture.
Lately this space has felt paralyzing. I have so much doubt about whether or not it is worth it to even share the thoughts that swirl through my head. I often stare at the screen and think “Who cares?”. But the truth is this space, this narrative of our lives in this place and time, becomes so much more precious in hindsight. The way words can capture a moment and a photograph freeze my children is so distinctive. Like so many others, I write to figure out what I’m thinking, what is important to me and what I fear. Beyond that, the words are just balloons I’ve set off into the sky-never knowing where they will land.
I’ve set a goal of writing in this space at least three times a week. Some of it will only be of interest to the grandparents, some of it only to faraway friends, and perhaps most of it to no one at all. Nonetheless, I will keep writing so that someday we can look back with fondness over these mundane and magical days.
This morning Stella and I took a rickshaw back from mass. It was a two minute ride and certainly nothing remarkable here in India, but she loved every minute of it.