Looking again

I need to find myself for a few days. My well is dry. I'm not sure of who I am, really, in all this muddle. In the blog world. In the writing world. I think I've just dried up, which could be expected, I guess, after day after day spent in the house packing.

I'll be back after the weekend, I think. If I locate me anywhere out there. Maybe some river will amble along and flood its banks beside me, and I'll be carried away. Maybe the dryness will be overwhelmed by the Spring, or the glimpse of sky I get through my front window.

Maybe I'll get my writing self esteem back. It's been taking a beating. I'm hearing all kinds of insidious whisperings these days, can't quite fight them off.

I need some grace. I would drink an ocean of it, if I could hold it all in.