I don't know what it is but even my children seem to have acquired a distaste for documenting everything. While on vacation, I kept taking pictures, hoping to make up for the days when they were younger and I was too sleep-deprived to take any. They were gracious enough to pose and smile while I clicked away, but after a few shots they often chorused with "Mom, enough. No more pictures, please!" I would reluctantly pack away the camera, yet, feel relieved as soon as I immersed myself in the very moment that I was trying to capture. And that is exactly what has happened over the past two months that I haven't blogged. I was deeply immersed in the lives of my husband and children, and in the process, I even found bits and pieces of my own past life as I got reunited with friends from school, people I used to work with and family visiting from abroad. Oh yes, most of it was part of my duty -- to plan occasions, make preparations, do errands, and even take pictures -- but the difference is that I no longer sat from the sidelines as a passive observer chronicling events as they transpired before my eyes, disinterested and wishing I were somewhere else doing something else. I've started to participate and actually surprised myself as I truly enjoyed, savored and got lost in each moment. I think it's what you call being present.
So never mind if I have nothing to show for the past two months -- no stories detailing what happened, no blow-by-blow accounts of what was said, no deep reflections on how I felt. I surrender to the thought that those sacred details are forever etched in the heart and will always be remembered by those who were there. Besides, blogging can wait, but family can't.
And to that person who said duty is the enemy of art, I suppose duty can be your art if you do it with your heart. You'll have to excuse me now. Art calls.