It’s been almost three years since I’ve touched this blog. And even then it had been sporadic. My life has changed a lot. I’ve changed a lot. And now this blog is really for me. It’s been a round couple of years. Rough and amazing and exciting and wonderful. As change always is. At least for me.

I’m not going to try to capture it all in one post. That’s not what this is about anymore. But I do need to write. I miss writing. Not because I’m good at it. (I’m not.) I miss it because it helps me capture and process and reflect. And I’ve been pretty out of touch with myself for a while. Except for the hour I spend in my therapist’s office each week.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but what finally got me sitting here writing was a conversation I had with a guy the other night. We were talking about music and he played a Gregory Alan Isakov song for me called Too Far Away. He asked me what I thought it meant. Being one who likes to have the right answers, even thought I’m pretty sure that’s not what he was looking for, I told him I’d think about it. He joked that I should write him an email with my thoughts on it. And that’s what finally motivated me to sit down to my computer and write something completely unrelated to work or “getting shit done.” (Which is the only kind of writing I’ve done for years, really.)

Even though I wasn’t really planning to write him an email, I have listened to the song about 100 times since then and it’s helped me process some emotions. I think music is such an amazing gift, like any art form, except for me there’s something about music that just helps me feel and see things differently; that helps me get in touch with whatever is going on deep inside; the things I always want to keep deep inside, but need to be let out.

Here are the lyrics from the official website:

hey, how have you been
since you let in
the clouds through your window as it rained

the last time we spoke
you were glued to that telescope
i heard you say it was too far away
was it too far away

me, i’ve been fine
i work most of the time
digging for secrets deep in the ground

a few days ago
they called for that big snow
man, i thought that i would never get warm
did you ever get warm

all inside the rain
we carry what we’re able
among the sewer rats and angels
and all of us in between

before i go
i’ll leave you with this poem
about the galvanized moon and her rings in the rain

For me, this was a conversation between two versions of myself. That’s the short version anyway.