Sometimes, I just am.

Everyone wants to be heard. We shout from our little bubbles with hashtags and share “news” articles that may or may not be accurate. It’s on the internet so it has to be…

I understand having a voice. I use it with every scribble and dot and crossed t. I know about voice because mine changes at every turn. In one story it’s solemn as an old man contemplates life in his empty ranch house, searching with shaking hands. Then it’s upbeat as I send e-mails at my internship, staying personable and kind. It’s inspirational and loving when I write in my journal, as I tell myself life is good…let me count the ways…

More than I care to admit, it is defensive as I growl at other peoples’ opinions. Sometimes I can’t even handle my own voice.

I understand voices. I read them every 5 seconds. I write them every day. I create them. I am them.

But sometimes I drown in them. It’s a cacophony full of likes and dislikes, up-thumbs and down-thumbs. Sometimes we have to walk away, turn off, log out.

Sometimes even I, the most genuine believer in voices and their magic, need stillness.

Painting silly pictures of flowers and ducklings, because why not?

Just one moment to get lost in the process with my thoughts and judgements far, far away…. And I just am.

I just am kayaking, splitting the water with my paddle.

I just am putting colors on a page, just to see their brightness.

  
Image via Pinterest

I just am making coffee, the roast wafting and filling me up.

I just am, and it is glorious to just be.

This ramble was partly inspired by the roar of noise that is my Facebook feed thanks to the impending doom presidential election, as well as this article, The Dark Side of Social Media and Why We Will Always NEED Magazines, that I read from my daily BoSacks e-mail. It’s easy to forget to be mindful of what we post on social media and to take responsibility of the world we create online, not only for ourselves, but those that connect with us.