I've decided to continue with the blog, but only as an annual journal. To see, as the years go by, where I am on each of Sunrise's birthdays. Sort of an anthropological study of myself, my emotions, and life after death.
Now she would be three. The past year I've been so busy with J. and learning to parent a baby/toddler again that I haven't had much time for reflection. Nor have I wanted it. I catch myself thinking about Sunrise and make myself stop.
Because the word that sums up this past year without her? Anger. Anger at myself but also at the world. And at God. Mostly anger at him.
I wouldn't call myself an atheist; I could never go that far. But I don't believe in a caring God anymore, one who invests time and energy into our well-being and answers our prayers. All the good (and likewise, the bad) in life comes down to a combination of luck, our own actions, genetics, and circumstance. Right now my spiritual belief extends only to a vast, encompassing divine force, but one that is disinterested, or incapable, of getting involved with humanity.
Spiritual crisis aside, my life is good. I feel safe, loved, and have all the comforts in life that anyone should ever want. It is human nature to ask for more but I stop myself. What I have is already more, more than i could ever hope for.
I'm making some changes, planning for a career as a writer and editor. Learning to follow my dreams (so important!). Making a bucket list. Taking risks, however small. Pushing myself. I don't want to be in a rut the rest of my life. I want to be me.
8 months ago