My hiatus.

I took a break from blogging. I had a baby. My family moved. I took trips. I started a business. I taught yoga. I taught meditation. I took on more clients. And I made up stories in my head about why I couldn't write.

My writing felt indulgent. I wasn't doing it with the intention of making money. It wasn't directly contributing in my quest to raise healthy and happy children. It wasn't moving us closer to our family goals. It felt like something that I was doing completely for myself, and with a growing family, I decided I had to give more to my children and less to myself. But that's silly, and I know it. Yet still, every time I sat down to write, I thought about the work that needed to be done around the house, or the work that needed to be done in my business, or the work that needed to be done for my clients, and I quickly talked myself out of writing. It's so easy to do that.

Luckily my creative energy persisted, even through my attempts to suppress it. (Why would you EVER suppress creative energy?! Oh, Melissa.) So I started outlines and I made notes. I recorded audios to myself. I kicked around ideas in my head. I woke up in the middle of the night, not because my baby was crying, but because I had a great brainstorm. I have these things saved on my phone, my computer, in my notebook, everywhere. But I never let myself write.

During this break from writing, I began to see even more deeply why the world needs to slow down, to come to terms with this idea and embrace a slower cadence. There's so much power in it. But I also began to understand more and more why this is so hard for people. It's scary. It's unknown. It's not the direction society pushes us in, so it's not the direction we move in. Society is strong and we have to be stronger or we are consumed.

And then I went to the beach with a friend and she told me to get going. She told me, "When you have something amazing inside of you, you have to push it out." And, naturally, I thought of childbirth. When you're pregnant, you can't even begin to imagine what that little being will be like once you give birth. But you can be sure of one thing: once you "push it out", you will be in awe. So you have faith, you release your need for certainty, and you move forward. And that's what I'm doing. I'm digging through my notes, listening to my audios, opening up my notebook filled with late night chicken scratch and dumping it all here. On this blog. And then, polished or not, I'm hitting that PUBLISH button.