Well, there is this.

When I started this blogging adventure I think the Internet was more pure.  Broadly speaking, bloggers were simply telling their personal stories, living their lives genuinely just for the sake of it.  There was no such thing as a sponsored post, people had not yet learned the ways of stylizing posts, filtered photographs didn't exist, fashion blogs were rather unheard of, and even Facebook - the holy grail of social media - was only available to current college students when this whole writing about my days, my ordinary life began back in 2005.

I remain forever grateful that I did not seek to monetize this blog, nor did I work at all to "brand" myself. I just kept writing, about my world when I wanted to and when I felt like it.  The writing has always come in fits and starts, I imagine it always will.  Living actually got in the way of some posts I always meant to write and at times other obligations became a priority, demanding my attention.
Any yet, there are always a million posts I would like to write, always a hundred different ideas or notions worth exploring.  I turned 38 two weeks ago and with it has come a lot of reflection; something I suppose is natural as I lean into the later part of my thirties.

This week I have been grappling a lot with the news, the terrible, awful news that seems to get worse every single day, that at times feels truly unfathomable and over-powering.

Personally, I've been trying to sort my way a bit too.  I'm working to discover what comes next for me, what my next unique chapter looks like, and trying me best to imagine what I would like to unfold.  This is, of course, both exciting and terrifying.

Which, really, is kind of how life feels most days.

It is so beautiful. 
It is so overwhelming.

But there is this -

Last night, I met a friend spontaneously for a post-work drink. We sat at a cafe overlooking the street, the doors pushed open to let in the balmy, unseasonably warm (and perfect to me) evening temperatures.  Given the phenomenal weather, she and I decided to walk together toward our respective apartments, which meant we would cross over the Mass Ave bridge just as the stunning Harvest Moon was rising over the Boston skyline.  She and I stopped to notice it, to observe, to marvel together at its beauty and wonder.

I couldn't help but think to myself as we stood along the railing, ogling this full moon that we got to see this.  We got to admire this.  How lucky, how fortunate.  A small joy.

What I am getting at, in a very round-about way, is gratitude.  That there is still beauty in this tired old crazy world but we have to look for it, to watch for it.  I believe it is there.  It is always there.  For I imagine we would all be forever lost without it.