Spelunking about in the cave space

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I've been quiet on the blogging front lately. I know I shouldn't really even mention that fact and should just blog on as though there has been no absence, but...well...there you go. I mentioned it.

Truth be told I'm hanging about in some kind of cave right now - a'la Gollum-like almost. No...not really...but I still can't get that image out of my head. When I was going through some really heavy stuff a number of years ago I couldn't help but watch the opening scenes of Gollum in LOTR - Return of the King and go..."Yeah mate, I get it." 

I'm getting sidetracked....LOOK! Something shiny!

I've got a number of posts sitting in various states of completion in my Drafts folder...but somehow I can't bring myself to finish them. Blogging is such a curious thing. How does one do a blog without making it too much like a diary? How does one write blog content without the population of the interwebz knowing all the inner machinations of the author's life? Am I too much of an over-sharer, a whiner, an over-thinker? How much of the daily goings-on of the household do I share before it starts being too intrusive on the privacy of the people I love so much?

These are all the things I have been musing on lately. There are times when I regret starting a blog. There! I said it! I am torn between wanting to develop my writing, develop this blog and make it start taking me places and just wanting to chuck it all in and disappear into obscurity.

I think I've said this before.

Truth is, life's just throwing some curveballs again lately (when does it not?) and so I've retreated back to the cave just to have a quiet space just to get through it. I'm like that proverbial little duck you see floating on a pond. On the surface all seems calm and serene, but underneath the water those little legs are paddling furiously to stay afloat!

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Sidenote: I adore ducks!

Sometimes I find myself wondering if these life curveballs will ever stop. Somehow I don't think they will. I'm learning to deal with that. I spent a long time back in my younger days ranting and railing about what I perceived as the unfairness of it all, but I don't do that now. It is what it is and I have learned to accept and sometimes even embrace whatever comes along as opportunities to learn and grow. I've been participating in a writing project over the past year called Letters to Myself, where I have written to my younger 13-year old self. Writing to my 13-year old self made me realise what a pivotal time that was - kind of my Sliding Doors moment - and that if I had've made a different decision that year my life would have been completely different. 

The thought of that actually scared me. 

As a result of writing that letter to my younger self I realised that there isn't one aspect I would change. Not one, regardless of the curveballs that keep being dealt as a result of some of those choices. 

But going back to the cave...I realise I really need it sometimes....and, at the moment, most times. The world out there can sometimes be too big and too sad. Robin William's death today has rocked me, really rocked me. I think the fact that he succumbed to the despair that he felt is the thing that's really hurting....and I think the thing that I can relate to the most. On the surface, Robin seemed like a hilarious, happy-go-lucky kind of guy....but underneath the surface I get the impression that he too was paddling furiously just to stay afloat....and one day he just couldn't keep paddling anymore. 

My cave provides me with silence and solace. A place to just stop and breathe for a little while. There's no one else in there except me...and I can't begin to tell you how much I need that sometimes. In my cave I'm neither upbeat or depressed; I just am. Quiet, thoughtful, restful, contemplative. I do a lot of crocheting, a bit of writing and some organising of my space. It helps.