Fog

fog1 | fôɡ, fäɡ | noun

1 a thick cloud of tiny water droplets suspended in the atmosphere at or near the earth's surface which obscures or restricts visibility (to a greater extent than mist; strictly, reducing visibility to below 1 km): the collision occurred in thick fog.

• [in singular] an opaque mass of something in the atmosphere: a whirling fog of dust.

• Photography cloudiness which obscures the image on a developed negative or print.

2 [in singular] something that obscures and confuses a situation or someone's thought processes: the origins of local government are lost in a fog of detail.

- New Oxford American Dictionary

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When one’s visibility is hindered by fog - is that a negative experience? When an image is obscured - is it damaged? When one experiences ‘brain fog’ - must it always be relieved? When the path is confused - is it lost?

My twenties have been a chapter of fog. Beautiful fog - an incubation - an inhalation of pause in preparation for seeking direction inwardly. This fog has forced me to rely on my instincts - intuitions built from childhood. It has not all been pleasurable - filled with anxieties, stumbles, stifles, and creative-claustrophobia. During these points of tension with the fog I have desperately wanted to find release, to be driven toward a passion with clarity and reassurance and fulfillment. However, it has been in these moments where I have had my greatest breakthroughs - my Thoreau-esque return to self. There is a softness found from breathing in the fog - a womb-like experience.

Contemporary western society tells you fog is bad - that it inhibits clarity, vision, movement and action. These connotations are, in my opinion, misguided.

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This free-form blog will be a space of catharsis for me - and with hope - perhaps it will foster a connection to its readers (I am tempted to write, “ if there even are any,” but that feels negative and dismissive - so I’m holding back).

I cringe at the very thought of publishing this.

Sharing my thoughts and experiences feels entirely overly self-interested, and undeniably places me in a position of vulnerability (ugh).

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On these gray pages I will divulge. I will seek to mold these moments into an entity for expression and for continued self-discovery. I am not out of the fog, nor do I know if I ever will be, but I am choosing to story the now and not wait a moment longer for things to clear.

And true to form - as I always use to sign my journal/diary entries as a young girl…

‘With a deep breath,’

Ava