I haven’t blogged in awhile. A long while. I have been writing, but I haven’t known where to share what I want to say. Sometimes I have big things to say. Sometimes I have small things. I honestly really (really) didn’t want to blog. (I honestly don’t read blogs.) But I wanted a space to process and think and feel and hope and grieve and dream. And after fighting the idea for a good long while, here I am… resurrecting a blog I haven’t used for over seven years. The impetus for this blog are words that I came across when I recently reread Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse. There are many, many passages of literature that I love, but these lines from that book I love more than any other:
What is the meaning of life? That was all – a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one. This, that, and the other; herself and Charles Tansley and the breaking wave; Mrs. Ramsay bringing them together; Mrs. Ramsay saying, “Life stand still here”; Mrs. Ramsay making of the moment something permanent (as in another sphere Lily herself tried to make of the moment something permanent) – this was the nature of a revelation. In the midst of chaos there was shape; this eternal passing and flowing (she looked at the clouds going and the leaves shaking) was struck into stability. Life stand still here, Mrs. Ramsay said.
So, that’s what I want to write about here:
matches struck unexpectedly in the dark
making of the moment something permanent
finding shape in chaos
Life stand still here.