When an exile is over…

…what is the verb to describe it? Is it done? Completed? Lifted?

I’d be surprised if anyone noticed, but I’ve been silent on this blog for four months. In a moment of revelation, I realized I had become a whiner. I found my posts depressing and filled with the same entitlement attitude I found detestable in others. So I threw myself into exile. It was a self-imposed attitude adjustment. And it took a helluva lot longer to overcome than I had expected.

Technically, it was a sabbatical. I rested. I researched. I pondered. Unfortunately, I didn’t travel. But I did survive the winter of my (the nation’s) discontent. Again I proved to myself, I am a survivor. I hadn’t known I’d needed a reminder until I found it.

And so I find myself on the cusp of the Ides of March and St. Patrick’s Day. The moment seems as good as any to declare my exile lifted. I have a lot to share in the coming weeks and months with anyone who’s willing to read my words. My purpose has not changed—I still am trying to make sense of the daily nonsense in my life. But the characters in my life (well, some of them) have aged and matured, and the stories have become more interesting, more intriguing.

Check back soon, if you’re inclined.


2 thoughts on “When an exile is over…

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