once more, with feeling
Ack, another fødselsdag is rapidly approaching, and as usual, I need to overanalyze everything and of course, take stock. Here goes:
I don’t need to go back and read the blog to know that lately, I’ve been writing about a lot of sad things. Just for the record: I’m not sad. I’ve been put in the unfortunate position of dealing with a lot of sadness lately, but I’m fine.
I write about things so I can let them go. And I put them on the blog hoping that someone else will see them and think, I’m not alone. Everybody has bad days… weeks… months, or seasons. If I’ve sounded preachy, or even smarmy, that was unintentional. It’s definitely been a year of soul-searching for your faithful blogger. It's also been a year of recognizing and acknowledging inspiration.
For a while I got on a kick where I started telling people that I care about, the people that inspire me, that I was grateful to have them in my life. “I’m grateful for you, grateful for our friendship.” It tended to creep people out. I don’t know why. Everyone should be used to my inappropriate and ill-timed emotional outbursts by now. And this is hardly the oddest thing I’ve ever said. But start talking about how grateful you are to have someone in your life and it can scare the less-hearty ones away. I have no regrets for expressing myself openly and honestly in every situation I’ve faced this year.
I derive inspiration from many other writers and bloggers. Reading their books and blogs reminds me, there are other people who feel things very strongly. True, we’re probably all a little screwed up. But in a good way. And something about their writing makes me think, they’re gonna be ok. Maybe I’ll be ok, too.
I derive inspiration from my mother. Strong and beautiful, she constantly amazes me. Watching her bravely struggle with physical therapy has made my own therapy easier to handle.
I derive inspiration from my friends. Talented, funny and smart; I’m grateful for their friendship. Oops. There I go again. How about, I’m grateful for their honesty and for honestly caring about me. Happy I made many new friends this year and reconnected with many old friends too. And I'm sorry about the friends I lost, but I have a good sense of closure on that now; I understand that they need to do what they need to do to get by.
I don't have all the answers.
I write about stuff because, well. That's just what I've always done. But it doesn't put me any closer to an answer. I don't pretend that I have all the answers. I don't even try to pretend that I have any of the answers.
But sometimes, on a good night, I feel like I'm a little closer to understanding. I'm not quite there… But I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. I can work out a lot of things on my own, when I write. What I like best is when you read me, and you tell me you know exactly how I feel.
You knew a girl just like that in school. You were bullied too. It took you some time to find your real soulmate. It's that sense of community, of writers and readers, that makes blogging so much fun.
And supporting each other. That's important too. Raising people up, instead of trying to put them down. Accepting your wrath when I write something you disagree with; accepting your praise with an I'm Not Worthy shrug and a little smile. Your comments here and elsewhere have meant more to me than you'll ever know.
Looking for answers. Writing was my salvation in school and it's still my passion today. In fact, it's even my career. I'll keep writing, and I hope you'll keep reading. And I think, after all this time, that I may be getting closer to an answer.
At least, I'd like to think so.
I have to call my mom this weekend to say thank you for bringing me into this world. Moms love that kind of thing.
I don’t need to go back and read the blog to know that lately, I’ve been writing about a lot of sad things. Just for the record: I’m not sad. I’ve been put in the unfortunate position of dealing with a lot of sadness lately, but I’m fine.
I write about things so I can let them go. And I put them on the blog hoping that someone else will see them and think, I’m not alone. Everybody has bad days… weeks… months, or seasons. If I’ve sounded preachy, or even smarmy, that was unintentional. It’s definitely been a year of soul-searching for your faithful blogger. It's also been a year of recognizing and acknowledging inspiration.
For a while I got on a kick where I started telling people that I care about, the people that inspire me, that I was grateful to have them in my life. “I’m grateful for you, grateful for our friendship.” It tended to creep people out. I don’t know why. Everyone should be used to my inappropriate and ill-timed emotional outbursts by now. And this is hardly the oddest thing I’ve ever said. But start talking about how grateful you are to have someone in your life and it can scare the less-hearty ones away. I have no regrets for expressing myself openly and honestly in every situation I’ve faced this year.
I derive inspiration from many other writers and bloggers. Reading their books and blogs reminds me, there are other people who feel things very strongly. True, we’re probably all a little screwed up. But in a good way. And something about their writing makes me think, they’re gonna be ok. Maybe I’ll be ok, too.
I derive inspiration from my mother. Strong and beautiful, she constantly amazes me. Watching her bravely struggle with physical therapy has made my own therapy easier to handle.
I derive inspiration from my friends. Talented, funny and smart; I’m grateful for their friendship. Oops. There I go again. How about, I’m grateful for their honesty and for honestly caring about me. Happy I made many new friends this year and reconnected with many old friends too. And I'm sorry about the friends I lost, but I have a good sense of closure on that now; I understand that they need to do what they need to do to get by.
I don't have all the answers.
I write about stuff because, well. That's just what I've always done. But it doesn't put me any closer to an answer. I don't pretend that I have all the answers. I don't even try to pretend that I have any of the answers.
But sometimes, on a good night, I feel like I'm a little closer to understanding. I'm not quite there… But I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. I can work out a lot of things on my own, when I write. What I like best is when you read me, and you tell me you know exactly how I feel.
You knew a girl just like that in school. You were bullied too. It took you some time to find your real soulmate. It's that sense of community, of writers and readers, that makes blogging so much fun.
And supporting each other. That's important too. Raising people up, instead of trying to put them down. Accepting your wrath when I write something you disagree with; accepting your praise with an I'm Not Worthy shrug and a little smile. Your comments here and elsewhere have meant more to me than you'll ever know.
Looking for answers. Writing was my salvation in school and it's still my passion today. In fact, it's even my career. I'll keep writing, and I hope you'll keep reading. And I think, after all this time, that I may be getting closer to an answer.
At least, I'd like to think so.
I have to call my mom this weekend to say thank you for bringing me into this world. Moms love that kind of thing.
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