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I have missed you, my dear. 

Hello again. It’s been far too long since I stopped by here.  Far too long since I’ve let my stream of consciousness turn into written words. Far too long since something has taken my fancy and I’ve said to myself, I need to write that down.

It’s funny – sad really, how you can gradually delay doing something and right before your eyes you can see a well-honed, hard-formed habit go from being the norm to the exception.  To dying.  It doesn’t take very long.  It may not even have been intentional.

You skip a day here, a day there,  you make excuses using all your “busy-ness” as reason.  Then, poof, it’s gone. Days become weeks, weeks become months, sadly months become years.  To each his own but in my case, by not writing regularly, I’ve only done myself a disservice. The habit of writing regularly – whether here or on any piece of paper, what matter the form it takes? I should never have cut it short.

I read this recently on a Daily Stoic email (I highly recommend this subscription, btw): Journaling is a memory bank with unlimited storage. It’s an archive, a reference manual, an unmatched tool for learning from today to inform tomorrow. That’s why journaling is so transformational. 

This is one form of journaling. My form.

A promissory note to myself: It’s way past time to make writing for myself a habit again. And don’t use “busy” as an excuse. Ever.  Go on , press the restart button. Commit yourself.


I have missed you, my dear.   Deeply.




Picture: By Gerard ter Borch – : Home : Info : Pic, Public Domain, 

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