September 2nd, 2016
Most things make me cry these days. I feel like having a kid does that to you.
I find myself clinging to lyrics like..
“What you’re looking for won’t be found easily
It grows upon the mountain in a sacred place
Up beyond the clouds, in ancient ground, so they say
And many men have died trekking up that away”
“Maybe life’s not what I thought it’d be.
It’s nothing like my childhood fantasies.
It’s harder than I could haveÂ known,
but higher than my hopes could float and better that I ever could have dreamed.
More villains and sad endings I suppose,
but I’ll take the thorns for this beautiful rose”
I find myself clinging to memories of carefree Colorado days sleeping in the Mountains with everything I could ever need snuggled up with Burley and Macey inside a tiny 2 man tent.
I find myself thinking back on 2 Christmases ago – feeling my family stepping back into a rhythm of peace and calm after a long season of sadness and turbulence, while feeling my first baby growing and swirling in my belly and feeling the joy of new life sloughing off the sadness of loss.
I find myself browsing for concerts in cities across the country and planning trips Burley and I can’t afford to fly in for a whirlwind night of city exploration and drinking whiskeys like it’s our job while dancing with the other carefree 20 year olds and thinking “it doesn’t get any better than this.”
I find myself thinking about all the change and excitement of the last few years and feeling both terrified and excited for the coming few. I guess they aren’t promised to me, but if I get there – I’m sure i’ll be in another crying phase because of how overwhelmed with awe and beauty I am.
Over the past 2 years I have stepped into a more public and professional role online after starting Marketwake and have struggled with the fear of being too personal or too “me” in this forum, since clients and partners have the potential of stumbling into the creative, undone, feminine, fashion-wanna-be, home cookin’ workin’Â mom world of maddierichardson.com. But in that same stride, I found that I’ve lost a lot of processing power for these same things. This blog has historically been a place for me to work out feelings & thoughts that I most of the time have a very hard time finding a place for in the world otherwise.
In the same way that hosting a fake cooking show in my kitchen helps me stay on task (not a lie) and praying out loud in the car helps me be more honest in my petitions (also not a lie), blogging publicly helps me organize my thoughts in a way that I have a very hard time doing outside of here. What a weird world we’ve grown up in, right?
So maybe I’m saying that Instagram is great and fun, but it’s no replacement for the days of blogging where we filled our mugs with coffee, sat down for an hour and got to know each other post-by-post. It’s definitely not the same as reading Anna’s birth story of bringing Azellie Jane into the world and finding strength in her words. It’s not the same as checking in on AubreyÂ and her little one on the way, who I’ve known for 6 years even though we’ve never met.
There’s a lot of power in a blog. Both the writing and the reading.
Maybe I should change this post name to “an ode to blogging”
Nah. I’ll keep it.