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A month ago, I decided on a whim that I would attempt to put up a daily post for the next month, just to see what would happen. Every day, without fail. Oh, it’s been a long month. There have been days when I almost didn’t make it. Days, like today, where I am still editing my piece as the clock hands mark a new day. Still, on other days, the posts just wrote themselves. My muse is a little blurry sometimes and I’m not precisely sure when she’s going to arrive. She’s flaky like that. Always late to the party and typically drunk.

In this month I’ve tried hard not to bore you all with my words—my mama always did say I liked the sound of my own voice and I’m cognizant of that fact that my obsession probably isn’t shared by everybody who reads this blog. I’ve tried to be honest even though honesty isn’t exactly tangible online, any more than it is in the mirror. Do we really ever tell the truth? I’ve attempted to be more open than I am in real life. People usually say that I’m easy to like and hard to know. So, being “knowable” has been a high priority. Authentic? Real? ME? Get in line for the definition. We are all enigmas. And we are all much less complicated than we think.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen.

What I do know is that this month of blogging has been, in a small way, a spiritual exercise of sorts. Oh, there have been moments when I knew I needed to put something up, anything up, where it felt like drudgery. That’s the discipline end of it, eh? But for the most part, I have found myself watching my day with a keener eye. Paying closer attention to the grace that quietly reaches out for me through the day. It’s easy to not notice that embrace, to be blindsided by busyness. This month has emphasized the need to see the world with fresh eyes, to slow down and pay attention. Somewhere along the month I stopped asking myself, “What am I going to blog today” and started noticing all the little moments, all the beauty that surrounds me.

I’ve not shared it all. I haven’t needed to—you know that “loving the sound of my own voice” thing. Yet, I’ve found enough, more than enough to write something daily.

While I began this little experiment at the end of December, the actual month of January ends tomorrow. Can you believe that Thursday marks the beginning of February? That beautiful month of flowers and chocolate and hearts and sentiments most mushy. I don’t know what February will hold for my writing. I don’t know if I will continue to find a post every day or if I will scale back to an easy 5 day work week. Or find some balance in between. That’s for February to decide.

Until then, I take with me a newly found appreciation for the discipline of writing daily. Something, anything daily. Not just for the sake of my writing, which benefits, but also for the beauty I am discovering in the process of finding the words. On a wing and a prayer we write forward. That you write and read with me has been the true gift.