Artwork by Rodney White

Four of my travelling companions in Jordan also have blogs. Tara Bradford was our intrepid tour guide and mentor, I've been following Paris Parfait for quite a while now. Gillian da Silva is positivity embodied and eclectic at The Dreaming Press. Christine Mason Miller is inspirational and madly talented at Swirly Girl. Rebecca Self is crazy smart, teaching and saving the world at XpatAdventures. All of them and their blogrolls are introducing me to what I've come to think of as kinder, gentler blogging.

This is my third blog. The first chronicled my struggle with infertility, the second helped me through a couple of very dark years after I gave up my dream of having a baby and dealt with far too many blows to my psyche and my physical being. I decided to make it private when things got a little too intense and the separation between the blogosphere and real life became nearly non-existent. There are times when I feel like I need to write there again, in "my beautiful purgatory, a velvet cage"... times when my thoughts are too bleak and self-deprecating to put up here, but instead I turn to my friends for solace and understanding.

While writing both of these, many on my blogroll were in similar situations, and many were bitter, angry, hurting, disillusioned and downright snarky. It helped immensely to know that I wasn't alone in my pain and that I could be just as snarky and be accepted.

Transitioning into my current incarnation as a blogger with a specific theme, while still allowing me the freedom to post about just about anything, has opened my writing and photography to a new audience while retaining some long-time readers, the best outcome possible.

I'll be honest, sometimes I'm not in a space where I can digest inspiration and reasons why I should count my blessings, but eventually I can and I go back to those posts. I'm also trying not to share every little detail when it isn't necessary. This is a huge change especially from my infertility blogging days, when it was all about the intimate (and I mean intimate) details. During one of many trips in the van to another remarkable Jordan site, Christine said, it's not about exactly what happened, but instead, what I learned from it. Ah, wise one, I am your grasshopper.

So, I learn and grow and try. And I ride horses, every week. Next post will have pictures of some new friends, including a Norwegian Fjord and a Haflinger. I didn't even know these breeds existed five years ago. I learn.