On a quiet evening after my son is tucked into bed, it occurs to me that it's past time I updated my webpages. For such a long time, I felt as though the only real life was the one I created online. Everything else was empty and senseless. The only time I felt truly alive was when I was escaping reality -- whether through the 'net or sex or a drink or a drug or any other countless forms of addiction. With the perspective of a few twenty-four hours in life on life's terms, living through all my feelings, learning finally how to participate in the humanity I feared, it's time to return to the web in writing. As full as my life has become, I have balance as well. Some days it's precarious. Some days it comes effortlessly. All days it is precious, each moment a lifetime. Even with an incredible support system and a true relationship with the Universal Mind, I feel the impetus to write. My journalling has kept me sane through the roughest periods of my life. At the darkest I never doubted my call to write. Hardly surprising that I return home at last. Pen to paper, cursor to screen - the form matters less than the processs. I trust the process. I trust the Universe. I trust my judgment now more than I ever have. And I believe in the ultimate goodness in myself. Welcome to sobriety.
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by Momali 1997-2004
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