Sitting Here, Hil: Why I Believe in Blogging Even Far From the Capitol

When I woke up this morning I convinced myself for a brief second that I was in my bed in Washington, DC - my green polyester comforter tucked under my chin, my body in its customary sleep positions avoiding my cell phone alarm. I felt my body relax into itself as my mind happily planned its afternoon - after work, maybe I'd stop off at E & 7th, NW to meet Hannah for lunch at Chop't, and then we could walk back to 8th St via Union Station. My legs stretched in front of me, and I wriggled my toes, and I felt a smile seep into my bones as I remembered with fondness that, "I need to put money on my SmarTrip!"

I'm not there, am I? I'm not on 8th St, in Chinatown, or within striking distance of my Starbucks and my morning walk up 16th St, past the National Geographic headquarters, and looping back around to work. I can't walk out my front door in business casual and look remotely like I belong. I can't buy a Chop't salad and I can't walk to Union Station and my body and mind are constantly fighting over the reality of being in Massachusetts.

I am here. My body, however unwilling, lives in Massachusetts now, in Beantown and Newburyport and clam chowder and real Dunkin' Donuts coffee. And my mind lives in Massachusetts, in Christian Theology and American Christianity classes, in TAing, in applying to scholarships and turning my mind around the prospect of graduate schools.

I am continuing to blog this next semester, and hopefully into the future, because I have this wriggling, uncontrollable hope that I can bring the person I became in sight of the Capitol building to Massachusetts with me, and to countries and cities and people beyond Massachusetts when I launch myself into the world.

New Year's resolutions have never lasted beyond the customary three days with me. Resolutions to eat healthier, run more, study early in the morning and the all-important, 'Go slower!' have never made it out past the starting gate. But this year, I am giving those resolutions a bit of a breather. I'm resolved to live fully where I am. I'm resolved to sit here and love here, and blog about here. I'm resolved to write about the world that I see in front of me, and learn about it, and sweep myself up in it. Ann, who writes a blog called A Holy Experience, is teaching me how to see God in small things. Lisa-Jo, who you've all heard about before, is teaching me to rejoice and question and run after Him by writing about the ordinary moments. And both women write for (in)Courage, where I know I will spend much of my 2011 searching for wise words.

Blogs are funny things. You write and every few words wonder, "will anyone actually read this?" And then you hit "Publish Post" and think, "why did I just write that?" And I won't always know the answers. But I do know that here, in Massachusetts, I can see sun shining, and people laughing, and snow falling - and I want to write about it. I can hear poetry echo around my mind, and I want to share it. I can hear questions knock on the door of my heart and I want to ask them out loud, ask them to hear them sounded out and to see them on the page - hoping, of course, that others can point the way to an answer.

Readers, as you think about the arrival of the new year, I hope your resolution includes something that brings you joy and helps you see the world in a new way. I hope you resolve to enjoy, and weather storms, and love deeply. And while you're at it, resolve with me to imagine and remember the places you love, and the people in it, and the wonderful and difficult things that have happened along the way.

Love,
Hilary