begin.
Full disclosure, I created this website six months ago.
SIX MONTHS have gone by with all of this just sitting here. Paid for. Doing nothing. And I haven’t told a single soul about it.
I have attempted to keep a journal for as long as I can remember, back when the entries were something like “I like dogs. So-and-so is mean. Tomorrow I’m going to the park. The end.” My many attempts have accumulated over the years, and now I have a stack of half-finished journals filled with babblings from various points in my life when I needed to babble. Past Sarah is usually just kind of a dork who doesn’t know anything about anything, but I learn from her nevertheless. She reminds me what has been important to me over the years. She gives me little nuggets of memories that I had otherwise forgotten. And she played a part in helping me realize I was in a destructive relationship. The only real problem with past Sarah is, she mostly felt the need to journal when things were going wrong.
I think that’s why this has been sitting here for so long, untouched. This last half of my twenties has been a whirlwind of huge changes filled with abundant joy, progress and success. I’m in a healthy relationship, doing the things I want to do with the people I want to do it with, making more money than I ever have before. I feel close to God, in a real and raw way that develops and changes on the daily. I am invested in my health, in being a good dog mom and considering what it might be like to be a human mom in the next few years (yikes!)
So why is it that, every so often, I feel overwhelmingly and indescribably devastated? Last month I found myself sobbing in Jesse’s arms after a day of just feeling “off”, and when he asked what was wrong, all I could say through a stream of tears was “I have everything I want.” He couldn’t help but laugh (lovingly, mind you) and tell me how deeply he understood. Back when my life was full of heartache and disappointment, spinning on a hamster wheel that never got anywhere, it made sense to me when I was sad. These days, melancholy just feels like a failure to appreciate all the good things I have around me. Winter always takes a toll on my mood, like so many others, so I know that’s a factor in play. But now that my life is going so well AND the sadness remains, I’m forced to conclude that this overwhelming heartbreak that I feel on occasion doesn’t necessarily reflect the state of my personal life. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not a bad thing.
Bear with me here.
Feelings are cues from within that something requires our attention. My highly empathetic AND emotional nature make it so sometimes those cues fire on all cylinders, coming from every direction and bombarding me to the point where I have no idea how to sort through them. Talking it out has always helped me navigate through those times and, more often than not, I come out the other side with at least a basic understanding of where that wave of emotion originated from. And it was in a moment like that, six months ago, when I bought this domain and created this website that I had absolutely zero plans for. I have revisited it many times, thinking “huh, maybe it’s time to start writing” only to be left with a blank brain and, as a result, a blank page.
The idea of writing for the purpose of sharing it with others is a conundrum for me. If I really am just working through my feelings with words, why not just keep a journal? Why not simply share things with my inner circle? Why do I feel the need to post things online and gather a response? I struggle with social media daily, both with the impact it has on me and on society as a whole. I’ve been facebook-free for years now and have never regretted it…but my phone tells me I’m on Instagram for at least an hour every day. I fight with myself every time I post something. Is this self-serving? What am I trying to accomplish here? Does anyone actually want to see this photo of my dog? Some days I choose to ignore myself and just try to enjoy it for what it is like everyone else. And other days I seriously consider getting rid of it all together.
I think the thing that keeps me from deleting my Instagram account is this nagging feeling that my intermittent heartache is directly related to what I consider to be the purpose of life.
Love.
To love others. To love ourselves. To love our creator. At the root of things and at the end of the day, both happiness and heartache are a result of love. They don’t exist independently or in spite of each other. They are forever joined by a common thread: Love. And like it or not, social media is a part of our world now, and I so badly want to figure out how to use it as a proponent of love.
Here’s the thing…my thoughts on this are a work in progress. I’m still not convinced that writing online is the best way to connect with people, and maybe all I’m doing is contributing to the existing problem. But I do know that I have been quietly (and sometimes desperately) searching for a way to use my online presence for good. I’m considering the idea that my desire to explore my thoughts through words, my quest to use social media effectively AND my conclusion that love is all that matters can exist within the same space. Right here. And maybe there’s a chance that whatever this ends up being could be helpful to someone besides myself.
Crossing my fingers that this is a good idea :)
Love Always,