There were "the before times," and then there's now. A year and a half into a global pandemic, and where is my literary life? Has inspiration flown like the security and normalcy we cherished? Certainly my blog has been silent. Certainly there have been no escapes to writer's homes for inspiration. Scotland stands out like the apex of "life as it was" - one grand finale to a world changed forever.
There have been words - many words - during this time. There were many words as I fought through Covid myself. They've been introspective words, soul searching words, words of transformation. Illness forced me to go deep - to find those internal things that needed attention, healing, change.
It was a vast time of dark exploration, but now I give it a nod of gratitude. Quiet fortitude and peace have a place they never had before. Acceptance. Putting aside hurt, grievance, regret, sorrow - anything that would hinder healing. Meditation has a place now, as does a deeper desire to embrace curiosity and knowledge.
Time at home has given me a chance to organize all the family photos. Spending time with images was like spending time with people I couldn't - with people physically distanced, literally and figuratively. It was weaving together a photographic narrative of life. Now that they are in order, I'm asking my brother and sister - as well as my 89 year old aunt - to add physical stories to go with the images.
So, yes, it's been an altered literary life. It's been putting together a picture-scape, weaving a tapestry of a family. It is a multi-series biography that spans centuries. It feels good to spend time with "what was" and prepare a legacy for the younger generation in the times of uncertainty.
Yes, there were hard times. Yes, there was joy. Yes, we persevered.
