hi

👋🏽

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These ramblings may never make it out of my notes. I hope they do. Who I hope sees them remains a mystery — I may never even meet them. All I know is my hands have been itching to do something like this for quite a while.

Anyone who knows me knows I love to write. I’ve told a few people over the years that one day I’ll write a book — its topic still unknown to me, but the appetite needs satisfying somehow.

Until it’s revealed what this book is meant to be about (maybe a more active pursuit of an answer would help), I see no harm in building a habit of writing — with the kind of freedom that only comes from having no obligation.

I look ahead with excitement. Maybe my ramblings will become more focused. Maybe I’ll find stories to tell. Maybe someone will suggest something - or challenge me to dig into a subject. Or maybe I’ll just enjoy the journey, and one day look back fondly at where it all started.

For those that also share my love for writing:

have you ever stumbled across an old journal and read through it?

It can be profound — sometimes even a little poignant. Seeing where you were, remembering how you felt when you wrote, how your handwriting has changed, then looking at where you are now - it can bring up all kinds of feelings. One that often finds me is reassurance (if that counts lol): that things tend to work out in the end - even when they don’t.

That reminds me of a phone call I had yesterday. My friend recently lost their grandfather — aged 94. For the last couple of years, dementia had taken its toll. He’d become a shadow of his former self (their words). The goodbyes had already been said. The grieving had begun long before the passing. But that didn’t make it any less real. My friend shared something with me that really stuck:

“Life is like a train. Eventually your stop comes up — but the train goes on.”

I’m paraphrasing but you get the gist. Ironically, I’m on a train right now, typing this on my phone and glancing at the time, wondering how long I’ve got before my stop comes.

The way death sobers the mind is probably something that’s been studied already (might look into it). I guess this blog is me making the most of my train journey — both literally and figuratively. Life’s too short to dilly-dally about in my mind and not let something make it out.

This is mainly for me. I wanted to admit that to myself. But if you’ve made it this far — thanks, and you’re welcome.

I’m not making any promises. Watch this space? You do you.

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