I have still been writing, in one form or another, maybe not quite every day, over my entire sabbatical, here. The fact is, my writing on socials of any sort (here as much as anywhere) has always felt a little to me like chasing clicks and fostering engagement and things that, for one thing, I’m not good at, and for another, I don’t particularly enjoy. Also, it makes me feel a little dirty. So I gave it up for a while.

What I *have* been writing — and I’ve written a fair deal! — in the meantime has been private, inward-facing, reflective, sometimes ranty. I’ve filled notebook upon notebook. (I still maintain that writing by hand has a sort of *magic* to it, even though there’s nothing magical about it. The speed of thought is different when scribbling the words by hand than when clickety-clacking away. Not sure it’s better … but it’s different.) Socked away digital file upon digital file. (My favorite tool of late is Obsidian, been using it for a little over a year. Felt cute, might post about it later, idk.) Wrote a couple of fun little scenes for my own enjoyment — one or two I wrote specifically for my students to perform (and they didn’t), another couple I wrote just for fun and I didn’t think my students would enjoy them at all (and they SUPER did, and performed THOSE instead), half-wrote and failed to finish more than I care to think about.

And not once did I feel bad about not posting anything publicly.

But lately, I thought a little about this place. And I kind of miss it.

I miss writing for an audience, even if that audience is mostly silent and mostly just me and a couple of people who know me (and a handful of internet strangers who stumble in like cruise vacationers on a shore excursion in a foreign country — lost, ill-outfitted, a little dehydrated and probably slightly inebriated).

And I’m also seeing the power recently in seeing yourself represented in other places. No, I’m not talking about White Guy Representation, there’s plenty of that. Too much of that. I’m not claiming any of that that’s out there, or asking for that. I’m just talking about the sense of “oh, somebody else out there is going through that, too. Ok, I’m not a *total* weirdo.” I always tell my students, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, that “if you’re going through it, somebody else out there is *probably* going through it too.” (Depending on how much they understand my sense of humor, I will tag it with “you might as well share the pain” or “you are not special,” just to watch their faces.)

Not for nothing, I’m also starting a new job and moving soon and life is feeling a lot less certain and set these days, and I GUESS I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THAT. I know enough about therapy to know that it’s probably a good idea to at least talk about what I’m feeling, but I’m too much of a stubborn dummy to actually go to therapy (sorry, wife).

So I dunno, maybe I’ll make some posts here again. Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe it’ll be dumb. (Two things can be true.)

Anyway, if you’re seeing this, thanks. I make no promises and I offer no assurances.

But I’ve learned that when you let go of expectations and stop *asking* your endeavors for things, that’s when you get the really good stuff in return.

Ok, bye.