Friday, October 10, 2014

Hey You Guys!

Oh hey, hello! I’m so glad you’re here. Don’t mind me as I dust off a few cobwebs and shoo off some tumbleweeds around here.   I have been thinking about blogging a lot lately. And not just I should probably blog so my mom will stop asking me about why I haven’t blog.  But I’ve been thinking about the whole phenomenon of blogging and social media . I’ve been questioning if the day of personal blogs have come and gone in the shadow of lucrative commercial for-profit blogs and social media that allows us to and maybe even pressures us to condense our complex stories into short status updates, tweets and links.  I’ve been thinking about the desire to connect with people, but without all the constant and sometimes fanatical need and again, pressure, to always be connected to people.  And down to the root of it all, I have been pondering (picture me longingly gazing out of a window onto a field of flowers, that’s pondering, right?) about how I want to tell and share my story. 
 One of my favorite quotes that often gets kicked around in my old noggin is" Happiness is only real when shared" (Christopher McCandless). There is a lot of power in sharing our stories and our happiness. And I don’t think that happiness is always those typical easily identifiable photo shoot moments, like birthday parties or vacations or chocolate cake. Ummm. Chocolate cake.   Happiness can be moments of much needed honesty, or bravery, or overcoming. Happiness isn’t always shinny and new, but it’s often a little worn and has well-earned scars from the sadness or disappointments, or battles that had to be dealt with and fought before happiness was a possibility.  And when thinking about sharing my happiness, I, for at least right now, come back to blogging.*  So I thought I would take this long weekend to pen some new posts, and see how this whole writing my history because I AM a victor thing goes.**
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* I am a frequent soap box ranter on the idea that there are many different platforms to tell our stories:  words, music, poetry, painting, dance, photography, heck even a perfect apple pie can be a thing of art and say so much about the creator/baker. I believe that we are given talents as vehicles for sharing our stories.  So, even though, right now,  I feel  that writing and blogging may be the right platform for me right now, I know it’s not for everyone in every phase of life, but I do hope that you all are telling and sharing and preserving your stories in whatever way you feel is right. I will always be one of your best fans (but not the creepy kind of fan that they make lifetime movies about, I promise).

 **I went through a couple of drafts of this post, one was super wordy and focused on the idea that history is really no longer just written by the victors, but on a more rag and bone level, it is written by people that actually write it, as in those that have or take the time and means to write it.  And in a lofty and dreamy, but still pretty realistic way, we are all victors, even if that just means surviving until tomorrow.  That draft kinda got out of control and a little too preachy, so it got left in the drafts folder. However, when I was writing that last sentence I apparently thought that victor thing was still in this posted mess of words.

2 comments :

  1. Have I ever told you how much I love your voice? That reading your posts is so often like having had someone reach into my brain and pull out all the thoughts I don't know how to put into words? Thank you for saying what I can never find a way to say! And thank you for sharing your happiness, in all its incarnations, with us!

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