It is weird spending the night alone. It feels that it has been a very long time since the last time and I think it would have been when I last traveled for work, which was at the end of 2019. I can't remember the last time I was actually home alone - but I think that it was when my daughter was in hospital with seizures, as my wife was able to sleep there on the floor next to her. That was about two and a half years ago.
During the time Smallsteps was in hospital, I kept writing. There was very little else I could do and as I have mentioned before, I use writing for many purposes, including processing my thoughts. Those days and nights after what was the scariest morning I have ever had, brought lots of thoughts. With no explanation as to what was causing the issues, I was very worried and my mind was wandering to some pretty dark thoughts, without me intending them to go there. It wasn't a pleasant time - but it was a time that I also cherish.
One day, I will look back for what I wrote then and see where my head was at. I hope that my daughter will also have the opportunity to read those posts, as well as all the other posts and articles mentioning her, her mother and our life together. I hope that whatever I do or can't do in my life for her, all of what I have written is a gift, something that she can cherish too, a piece of our life together.
As parents and perhaps humans in general, we think about legacy and what we leave behind, some wanting to leave more than others, some wanting to take all they can. A surprise to me is that my writing has become an extension of who I am, something that is tangible and transferable - these words are mine, they will become part of my daughter's inheritance. There are a lot of things that can be bought and made as presents, but perhaps this is the best I will be able to muster for her.
I think that she will learn a lot about her life through this and whatever happens, maybe she will be able discover the answers as to why she is party the way she is through my words. I also wonder if what I write now will align with her knowledge and experience of our times together. I also consider how well some of the topics I write about will age and how off the mark they might be - or perhaps they will be on the money. That'd make for an interesting future.
While I like writing for myself, I also like writing for others and in some way, it is kind of like singing in front of an audience - it is both public and personal at the same time. There is an intimacy in writing out thoughts and sharing them and I am not sure whether people appreciate the exposure. We live in a world where we love to share, but we don't seem to care much about who we share - as long as it supports our perception of the world. It makes the content valuable, the author disposable - as there is always another creator to follow.
But, I don't think too much about my future as an author on Hive or anywhere else, I just hope that more people are empowered to be creative, to get comfortable showing some vulnerability and building more intimate and personal relationships with those they come into contact with. I have a very strong feeling that in the future there is going to be a lot of "class gaps" with one being the mental health of individuals, the people who are able to cope, and those who are not. There is a difference of intention between being emotionally open and being uncontrolled.
Writing helps with my control, because the process searches for and makes me face what my mind might otherwise be hiding - forcing me to acknowledge aspects and at least some space and opportunity to deal with it. If there is a drawback, I write so much that at times I forget that I should share some of my thoughts with others, especially my wife. I find it easier to write though, so perhaps I should just send her links.
On that note, it is time to go to get my clothes ready for the next few days as I can't stay here tomorrow night and then, head to bed alone. At least my snoring won't be an issue.
Taraz
[ Gen1: Hive ]