Rediscovery

Again, I’ve rediscovered my own blog. It happened as I was perusing my files for an essay I want to send to my cousin. Since I’ve changed computers three times since writing that essay, I turned to the blog. I didn’t find the essay, but I discovered an essential part of myself that I do not share in real life with anyone. I’d forgotten that I used to share that part on this blog.

As the years rolled over, and my life settled into the routine of a stable but demanding job, and I became a grandmother four times (alhumdullilah!) I fell away from writing.

Perhaps I will come back to it, because the grandkids are growing, and I might want to leave them this blog. They might not be interested, though. Would I have read the diaries of my grandmothers?

Writing used to validate me to myself. Sharing the work on the blog enriched me. Do I no longer need this means to strive toward Maslow’s pinnacle of development– self-actualization? Do I still care?

I’m sixty-six years old already, in my second year of retirement.

I still have much to say. I should probably get busy.

 

 

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About Marahm

At first glance, I may appear to be a middle-aged American woman with kids, grandkids, retired from a job in a hospital, gratefully relieved from the responsibilities that come with all of that. Behind the image, which is true enough, I am fairly unhinged from much of American mainstream living, having spent twelve years in Saudi Arabia, years that sprung me from societal and familial impositions of narrow bands of truth. I have learned to embrace my sense of identity as a seeker, an artist, and a writer. I study Arabic and Italian language, because I love them, and I love their people. I still dream of spending more time in the Middle East and Italy, though the dreaming now seems more real than the possibilities. I am a photographer. I write, and sometimes publish, flash memoir, and now a blog or two.
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