My youngest daughter came up with these wise words,
when talking to someone whining over forced changes in their life.
I confess, I've refused to let go of things at times,
even when hanging on
meant being dragged through prickly pear and brier patch.
Why is that?
Is change so difficult, that we choose intense pain
over potential, all though unknown, bliss?
This blog is one such instance.
I enjoy writing it, but every week pulled at my time.
The readership didn't grow.
I questioned if this had become one of the many announcements
on multiple, writer's loops that go unread.
Not because they aren't good, but due to sheer volume.
Could I change it up and make this more appealing?
How much more time would that take?
Hours away from pounding out pages under that task master, Dr. Wicked,
or editing my current WIP.
Was it worth it?
After being dragged through a row of nasty huckleberry bushes,
I chose change.
Rather than continuing to yank thorns out of my back side,
I've opted to cut back to a monthly post,
until I decide how to revamp this blog.
I'm letting go because it makes sense.
And it feels terrific.
Where in your life is it time to let go?
Comment if you have time.