It has been twelve months since I posted, but it feels as if only a month, maybe two, have passed. I remember my first blog post in 2016 titled “Free Writing” and the last, exactly one year ago, titled “Over the Garden Wall,” as if I’d just written them. The thoughts and feelings that came together in each piece felt like a taming, a focusing, an act of heightened awareness that has held constant. How is it possible to reconnect so easily after all that’s transpired in the last year?

Writing moments like those have a unique quality. They are touchstones that can be revisited, like old friends we haven’t seen for months who, when we hear their voices, carry us emotionally into our deep history in seconds. These are the stars in our galaxy that shine forth in a manner that can’t be measured in time or space but nonetheless land solidly in our hearts.

These moments, these connections, these experiences of heightened awareness change our perception of time. Because we remember every detail, they extend time, they seem longer than they could’ve possibly taken. They also stay with us in an inexplicable way.

Some are highpoints, others are times of calamity or sorrow. But all show us more about who we are, what inspires us, where our passions lie. I now understand that writing my blog posts for almost two years gave me an avenue to express what’s important to me, as often as I chose to take the time to write. Subjects I don’t address in ordinary conversations even with my closest friends. As much as any meditation or yoga practice, that writing fed my soul. What a gift.