Author: Abbiervogel

Hello, again. I took a little sabbatical once again. I swear, something about the change in the fall air pulls me here. I guess once or twice a year is better than nothing.

I don’t know if cooler weather brings my head back to a functioning point, or if it’s the fact that I seem to see old friends more at this time of the year, but something about fall seems like writing weather. The cooler weather does seem to slow me down a bit, make me enjoy the days a little more instead of simply endure them. I do think that the resurrection of relationships has something to do with it though. Your mid-twenties are an interesting time. I’m still friends with a lot of people from high school, and although they’re mostly done with school and moving on, it seems like everyone takes a break for the beginning of fall. Perhaps it’s just drawing a deep breath before life continues on, but this small pause means a lot to me. Living in a small community, there’s not a lot in the friendship pool, and I’ve never been the most social person anyway. I like what I like, and I only like that because I’ve adjusted to it over the years. Liking is one thing but appreciating is another. I’ve known people who have an innate ability to recognize and appreciate the good things when they have it. I’ve admired this, and admittedly envied it. It may be one of those things some people have to grow into, and it seems that I’m one of them. But now is better than never. I’m not sure why taking people for granted isn’t the eighth deadly sins, but it seems dangerous enough to be on the list. People are one of the few things we have in this life that we influence, in their involvement in our own lives and in the way they live. We have a say in the energy and input we allow on ourselves. It may not always feel like that, but we do. You just have to have the courage to say so. I guess I’m glad that I’ve managed to hold on to a special few people, and perhaps lucky the ignorance of my youth didn’t sever important bonds. I haven’t always known what I’ve needed until it was in front of me. People can surprise you like that. That’s the excitement about connecting to another human being. The ones you’ve known for ages are always capable of surprising you, and the adventure of new friendships is that you might find something you’ve been missing.

Spring is commonly thought of as the season of new beginnings, but I think the ground work is often laid in the fall. The refreshing of a previous relationship, a moment of calm to start a new one. People refer to the seasons of life, but maybe our lives are bound to the natural seasons. Maybe most things in our life adheres to cycles, as our world does. Maybe you only get out of life what you put in. Perhaps you’re supposed to feed relationships until their cycle is done, and maybe they’re never down. I guess that it’s all highly individual, and highly subjective o the individual relationship. Anyway you choose to approach it, I recommend a cool autumn breath as a start,

A.V

I want to start out by saying I know I’ve been gone awhile. Life takes us down a rather winding road. But I think I’ll always wind up here. It’s much easier for me to spill my guts here rather than verbally for some reason.

It seems Fall evokes something from my soul that I cannot access on the daily basis. Maybe it’s the workload, maybe it’s the seasonal depression. Maybe it’s the season of transition that boldens me to write my revelations down. The hope that I also will transform into something new. I fear I’m not smart enough to confirm anything for certain. And maybes it’s a fool’s courage that enables me to post online. Regardless, I guess I’ll post.

This fall has been tumultuous for my family. We always land on our feet, and make the best of every situation. Sometimes it makes me eternally grateful and sometimes it makes me want to pull my hair out and scream. Other times I’m oddly proud to be apart of such a fucked up, yet resilient family. We may have to wade through months of hardship, grief, and pain; nonetheless we carry on.

There is a certain expectation coming from a family like this. I can’t speak for anyone else, but sometimes it is a crushing weight. And after writing it down and rereading, I suppose everyone’s family is like this in one way or another. There’s no time or place in this current world for the crumbling of oneself. No matter the circumstances. And I personally think that’s a shame. But I am lucky or blessed, I’m not sure. Because that’s another part of my family. The forgiveness. Not a soul among us has escaped the hell of a sorrowful, heart-wrenching thing. And that allows room in our hearts for grace. Something the world lacks.

One thing we don’t lack, and as far as I can see, the only bonus to our unfortunate luck, is our sense of community. We gather from near and far, and somehow manage to reforge bonds and strengthen relations. I sat today in a kitchen full of food, camaraderie, and an unwavering love. Some of us hadn’t seen each other for years, yet we picked up and continued like it was just yesterday.

When I got home I was moved to tears. Maybe love really is an immeasurable force, maybe I’m just emotionally unstable. Either way, I proceeded to get slightly drunk and tell people I love them. As is the way, in a minorly dysfunctional family. Doesn’t make the love less real. Possibly makes me more honest. Regardless, now is the time to cherish those in your life.

In honor of Ian Arthur, someone who showed me it’s never too late, and it’s never too much.

A.V

I wanted to start this new endeavor off with a small foreword, for my first small step in reconnecting with what was once a significant refuge in my life.

First and foremost, I want to welcome myself back to writing. That was one hell of a hiatus for someone who truly does love the world of the written word. Although, probably not surprising to anyone who has dealt with me academically. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would call me self-motivated. School assignments and scholarship essays are the extent of my authorial work. And in all fairness, rarely did those get done in a timely manner. I was not a person who could just sit down and write unprompted. Distracted, unorganized, and maybe even a little lazy would best describe my writing methods. This is not to say I didn’t, or don’t love writing. When given a topic I could throw myself into, or an opportunity to use a writing prompt to reflect on my own life, writing would be all-consuming. Stories and creative, artful writing don’t come naturally to me. I’m more of a reactive writer, if that makes any sense. Occasionally I see, hear, or experience something and it sets off a barrage of thoughts and feelings that I want to sit down and put on paper. On far more rare occasions do they ever get written down. Cue, this page.

I have no idea if anybody will ever read anything I write here (it’s almost more comforting to think that they won’t), but I’m looking forward to having a small solace in words again.

A.V.