Intimidation

I've been feeling a little intimidated about writing on my own blog. I'm not sure why. I had felt like this for awhile and then I talked with one of my housemates, who was writing for the Avodah blog that week, and she complained that she was having trouble writing because she couldn't get over how blogs are inherently narcissistic. And just like that, I figured it out (with a little help from my friends). I've been a little afraid about coming off as insecure or obsessive, when I am (usually) neither of those things. I've been worried that my thoughts here will be misread, that one moment of one day will be stuck in your mind forever. My life is a series of moments, and I try and make each one count.

See? Now I'm doing it again. I absolutely want to delete that last sentence, because it seems too cheesy.

But I'm leaving it in. It's my sentence. It's how I feel at this moment. Sometimes you just need to get started again--jump right in, head over feet--and then you find your rhythm. Step over step, pounding the trails, scrambling over the hill and around tree roots and across the river and back again. That's how you find your way. You notice the crunchy leaves under your shoes. The taste of cinnamon on your tongue and the scent of sourdough bread in the oven. And then you're adding up the miles, one after another, never looking back for more than a moment, and only just to revel in how far you've come, before you're off again--quick! and back into the trees. That's the way I run. That's the way I want to live. That's when everything feels right.