I've put a lot of thought into starting this journal. I don't think there is a choice anymore. It's so hard to tell what's real and what's curated in the world, while it's easy to feel like you are screwing the whole thing up. You're not. And neither am I. The days are long right now as I am in the thick of being a mom and wife, running the gym, launching a nature school, and trying like hell to grasp the memories with mental pictures. But the weeks and years... those go fast somehow. I don't even understand this time continuum where the two hours before bedtime last an eternity but seemingly yesterday my oldest was born. He's actually 3 yrs, 6 mos. I don't want to forget any of it, ever. It is a grand effort to be completely present in my life. And though I embrace that (along with the sacrifices), it isn't always pretty.
How public and how raw do I really want to be? Very. Real life isn't always pretty, you know that. You live it. That imperfection is where the good stuff exists; it's the space where the magic happens. You have to be willing to be there and love it. I'm not really good at a lot of things, but I am really good at sitting in the mistakes and failures and making something beautiful there. I hope you'll journey along with me, that you'll laugh and cry at the crazy, beautiful, rawness of it all. I'll do my best to smear away the muck and show you all the great stuff underneath.