Trite

I went to bed last night wondering how or even if I can really help, inspire or matter with my writing. Harsh introspection for bedtime, indeed, but I can’t wash the words “trite”, cliche’, and unimaginative from my mind as recent criticism of my blog continues to reverberate within. 
If sharing myself isn’t helpful to anyone than there isn’t much point to blogging. 
As I have been publicly open, my book’s conception was born from a deep desire to heal during a difficult time—- it was never meant to be shared, and only a few chapters were written with the intention of publication as the manuscript officially became a book. The result was a raw honest look inside the heart, mind & insecurities of a woman who had lost not just her footing in her world with infidelity and birthing a sick child, but that of someone who had also lost a baby and struggled with infertility, identify and grief. No filter, no sweeping edits as painful as it was not to delete every word that made me cringe; all of the truth was left there to hopefully resonate with its’ readers.
Today, I am without marital and fertility struggles. Today, my severely disabled child is medically stable. Today my world is filled with more light than darkness—not just because of an ability to hang onto the positive and to fish out the negativity, but because of circumstance. Affliction has ebbs and flows, and I am still in the backwash of the wave of affliction. 
My blogging has been criticized as stereotypical and uninspiring because it isn’t deep nor the dark side of thought. 
The thing is—life in and out of affliction isn’t always dark or deep. Much of who I am and what I believe (and hope to inspire others to feel) is the recovery from affliction. Life is often about the light, optimism (even temporarily feigned optimism). Life is often about the cliche’ because those mantras, although well worn, are useful. Life is about the dark days and it is about the morning after. It is as pretty as it is ugly and the prettiness serves (or should) as much of a purpose for growth and introspection as the ugly. 
I can write today about my ‘Promises for Back-to-School’ because this August I wasn’t caught in the darkness of the reality that the baby I was carrying could die— at any moment in utero, birth or in the NICU. That was eight Augusts ago. Eight years have passed since my world was swept into the medical swath of having a child who will not outlive me.
This August, I did not have to see via ultrasound another dead baby in my seemingly uninhabitable uterus. That was four Augusts ago—four Augusts since my hope was vanquished by overwhelming grief and doubt as I said goodbye to that pregnancy. 
This August I wasn’t consumed with constant worry of preterm labor, another stillborn baby, another placental abruption. That August came and went three years ago when I lied for five months in bed hooked to monitors, contracting daily and worried to my deepest core that I would lose another son to my own body’s ineptitude for pregnancy. 
Yes, this August is very different than many of the past. 
And yes, my blog is very different than my book. I am no less honest today than I was then, but I am also an evolved version of myself. The afflictions that catalyzed my growth and awareness began nine years ago. Afflictions, time, age and circumstances have changed me (as they should). 
More to the point, I am in a phase of recovery from affliction and that—- the recovery, can also be an inspiration. 
When I blog about sending my children back to school, being an ignitor of change, special needs parenting, surviving suburbia, sweating the small stuff, etc. they are honest introspections and insights experienced by someone who has survived the bad day. They might not dig to the depths of my previous pieces, but to fabricate pain where it doesn’t exist for the sake of inspiration isn’t honest. The lack of pain is the inspiration of the day. The ordinary day is what the majority of us feel and experience—and just because it is common and routine doesn’t mean there isn’t room for reflection inside those moments. 
Moments of introspection aren’t always earth shattering. Dark moments from the past and dark moments to come in the future are where they should be— in the past and in the future. To linger in yesterday’s affliction serves no purpose for today. I’ve been down that rabbit hole. I’ve conquered. I’ve grown. I’ve forgiven. I’ve let go. 
Likewise, I know consciously there are dark days ahead. I know my little girl has an unsurvivable condition. There will be deep pain and much more writing to express the unimaginable—some day. There are fears, but they are shelved for another day. They exist for the future because today, today she is here and well. That is all we really need to remember. And sure, it is cliche’.
I can’t reinvent the wheel. The cliches I may touch on in my blogs are truths. The atrocity is that they’ve become so overused they’ve lost their ability to deeply resonate. Yet, they are important as ever to remember. 
Tomorrow will be better. Affliction will come and it will go. 
Wrap it up a hundred different ways and yet the same basic principles still exist for all of us. We know them… we just have to remember them and utilize their messages. 
Maybe my blog will serve as a reminder of the lighter days (the days where you worry much ado about nothing and the better days that are around the corner). 
Maybe my blog only leaves you wanting more— something more profound. I however challenge you to ask yourself why? 
If it is the cliche’ of it all that leaves you uninspired what is it about those, admittedly well worn, but yet useful messages that push you to tune out vs making them your own?
The simplest mantras that trend are just tools… easily understood verbiage to remind us of everything we already know—- everything that is easy to know, but difficult to live . 
It is the living and surviving affliction that illuminates the reminder that the darkness is only a moment, a chapter—- and that there are vastly different moments of experiences to come. It is our challenge to cherish, to learn and to grow in each moment: the dark, the blissful, the exciting and the mundane.