pressing pause

Sunrise over Boston harbor, February 20 2019.  I chose a sunrise on purpose.

Starting today, I am going to pause writing regularly here.

It feels strange to write that.  I’ve been writing here for twelve and a half years (with a few weeks off here and there, but mostly between 2 and 5 times a week).  Every January I have the previous year’s blog posts bound into a book, and those take up more than half a bookshelf.  I have written a lot, and I am really starting to feel like I’m just saying the same things over and over again.  My “real life” has gotten busier than ever and those two things, combined with my perception that fewer and fewer people are reading, leads me to think this is the right moment to take a break.

I may come back.  I don’t know.  In the meantime, I hope you will find me on Instagram.  I’m also on Facebook and Twitter, but it’s Instagram that I like the best and where I’m most present.

I began this blog on a whim in September 2006.  I could never have imagined the world I would find through this portal.   This blog has opened doors I never anticipated.  The practice of showing up here day after day, week after week, has taught me that writing is the true work of my heart (and it showed me what I think and feel, in so many cases; Didion comes to mind: “I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking”).  I still hope to write a book someday.  Most of all, this blog has led to connections with so many wonderful people, many of whom I call friends.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

21 thoughts on “pressing pause”

  1. Oh Lindsey, I will miss hearing your poetic voice on a regular basis! I “met” you a couple of years into your blogging journey, and I have eagerly awaited your posts over these years as you’ve shared your reflections, wonders, worries, and life. My children (and I!) are a little older than yours (and you!), but I’ve seen my own parenting joys and concerns reflected in your words. You have made me laugh, cry, nod vehemently in agreement, and gasp in wonder. Most importantly, you have reminded me – often – to be present and grateful for the now.

    I wish you the best of luck in your new and continuing journeys. I do hope you write a book one day because you have much more to say, I do believe. Thank you for sharing yourself so generously with us, your faithful readers, these many days.

  2. I just wanted to say how much I’ve enjoyed reading your blog posts over the last 8 years. I found your blog while in the throws of my own postpartum depression, and I identified with so much of what you wrote about your experiences – honestly very few writers have been brave enough to document what PPD experience is like, and you captured it so well.

    Through your book reviews, I’ve found other amazing authors I don’t know that I would’ve found otherwise, so I thank you for that too.

    Also, we share a common connection in that my family owned a home in Marion, & it’s where I was married as well. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve been there, but I always enjoyed seeing your photos of Marion – it was such a special place for me.

    Best of luck in your new adventures – I will keep an eye out for your book someday!

  3. You will be missed. I think I have read your blog from the beginning. It is so strange how you can feel like you know someone you never missed. Will keep followihg on insta and wish you all the best in wherever your next chapters take you. Thank you for your words.

  4. Lindsey,

    I was so sad to read your post this morning — and to learn that you won’t be writing on the blog anymore. Yours is one of the first that I read every day — and I have enjoyed so much of what you have written about parenting — the joy and the loss — and over the last year your reflections on grief and mourning.

    My youngest daughter is the same age as Grace so your musings on what it means to parent a teenage girl and watch her take off under the power of her own wings is deeply meaningful for me.

    I had the chance to meet you in person — just briefly — in January at Dani Shapiro’s reading at Brookline Booksmith.

    Please know how much your writing has meant to me over many years – – and how much I hope to read a book that you have authored one day.

    Warm wishes to you in that pursuit.

  5. I’ll miss “hearing” your voice on the regular but understand your wanting to take a step back. I’ll continue to <3 your pix on IG and hope to see your book one day soon. Wishing much happiness to you and your family.

  6. Wishing you only good things as you embark on this new journey. May this enable you to have time and space to explore new things. I always think of the Maureen Stapleton character in Nora Ephron’s You’ve Got Mail and how it really is brave to leave what is known and open ourselves up to new possibilities.

  7. I absolutely understand this decision. It’s hard to walk away from something that’s been a big part of your life for any period of time. But I think somehow we always know when it’s time. I love following you on IG and will continue to do so. And I’ll keep an eye out for a larger work from you at some point down the road. My best to you.

  8. Thanks for all of your efforts and thoughts, Lindsey. And all the best as you continue with your busy life. I’ve appreciated your thoughtfulness and hope it’s a relief to devote yourself to other things and leave this forum for a while or forever. I live near you and think of you every time I’m by your street. All the best to your wonderful family. You all are lucky.

  9. Not sure how I landed on your blog but I have called it one of my favorites for years now. I will miss your writing but am glad you are honoring where you are at. Best wishes

  10. I am sadden by this news, but I also understand. It seems like blogging has lost its allure and most blogs have either been abandoned or shut down. I’ve enjoyed reading your words overs the years and I hope to find your name on the cover of a book in the not too distant future. All the best to you.

  11. I read this two days ago and have felt so sad since then. Although I understand (although maybe I’m writing that because I’m supposed to , ha ha) it feels like a break up. The beautiful writing here as done so much for me over the years. My youngest two kids are your kids ages and I love hearing what you have to say. Several years ago, I think when you switched to two days a week, you said you were saying the same things over and over. But I see growth and change, as well as following your same themes. I will so so so miss your things I’m loving lately posts, and I don’t know where I will get good book recs ….. ugh. I will miss this so much.

  12. I’ll miss you! I started reading your blog when my daughter (now 10) was only a few months old- you or your blog was referenced in… a WSJ or NYT article? I can’t remember now (and I probably have the timing wrong), but you’ve felt like a friend to me for a long time. Weird, huh?

  13. All the best as you pause and express yourself in different ways. I have read your blog for years and it’s had such a positive impact on how I live my life. It’s also introduced me to many great writers and given me ideas on how to document my own children’s journeys. Thank you for everything you’ve shared and for being a consistent and persistent voice on embracing the now. Hope you are smiling as you think about the impact you’ve had through this blog!

  14. You are a gifted writer and your voice will be missed. But I must tell you, I hear lines that you’ve written in my head often, “the light of this hour”, “a poem and a prayer”, let’s take a “notice things” walk. The mark of a gift, that your words will resonate long after you’ve given them a space to breathe. Thank you.

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