If you’re reading this post, there’s probably been a prolonged period of silence - no posts, no emails, no chats - from me.

I had known, for a while now, that there would be volatility in my life, and well, call it paranoia, or maybe a compulsion to be prepared, but I have had this post written and scheduled to have it published a week or so into the future - and as that date came nearer, I’d keep pushing the date back further and further. If I couldn’t get to a computer, then the post wouldn’t continue the slow forced march onward into time, and would finally be published/posted.

It’s an interesting idea, then, this post from the past, yet not really part of the present or future. I think the best way I can describe it is like a time capsule. Or is it a letter lost in the mail, arriving long after it was written? I’m not sure, really.

Looking back on some of this, I sit with my head in my hands and with a small sense of wonder. I had never imagined, in the beginning, eyes poring over other writers’ blogs and articles, that I’d have grown the courage to place my thoughts into words, and then take the leap of placing these words where they could be seen and read. For a private person, this is a big step.

And even though we try to persuade ourselves that the writing is for ourselves, that the audience doesn’t matter - these are thin white lies that stand as feeble protection from the otherwise sheer joy of communicating ideas, thoughts, dreams, wishes, hopes, fears, pains, and pleasures. There are so many writers that I’ve come to respect, admire, and to be humbled by.

I cannot express that enough.

At this time, I can’t tell you how I am. I can’t, now, tell you where I am, or what has happened to me. That’s another strange thing about a post written in the past to be published in a future I’m not quite a part of. So, enough about me; I hope you are well. I hope this post finds you, dear reader, wherever you are, in a state much much better than mine.

And I hope, too, that this is not the end. No, I’m hopeful, in my absence and speaking to you from the not so distant past, that this isn’t a permanent run of radio silence but instead a short and brief signal loss - and that if the dials are set just right, the knob turned slowly between index finger and thumb, the silence will give way to static, the white noise then giving way to a clear and audible tone.

I hope it’ll be me, saying hello, in the not too distant future.