As is so often the case, I don’t know exactly what I want to say, but I feel compelled to write something. It’s a chicken-and-egg quandary for me: did I stop writing because I have nothing to say or do I have nothing to say because I stopped writing? Either way, I’ve missed it, so here I am, investigating.

My life consists mostly of going to and from work or to and from the grocery, washing dishes or laundry, and trying to come up with something new to make for dinner. Not much to write about there. In between these mind numbing tasks, I’ve been painting bits of my bedroom blue in an attempt to choose a new shade for my walls. All I’ve succeeded in doing is making a mess of my bedroom, so while I wait for the right blue to find me, I’ve been spray painting some outdoor furniture in shades of navy and indigo – a quicker fix for my need for change.

Simply put, my life feels quite monochromatic right now. All I see is blue. But I want to believe even in this blue period something deeper is at work – that this is just the calm before a sea change bringing light and color and transformation beyond the walls I’m painting.

I have no idea how to make that happen. But I had no idea what I was going to write tonight, and somehow still managed to create a post. So, there’s that.