Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Blogging Dilemma
I was just reading from The Curious Writer for an upcoming composition class, and something suddenly occurred to me. Now, being an English professor, this would be a good time to include the direct quote, but unfortunately, I left my book at the office...so I'm relying off of memory and will paraphrase.
What Bruce Ballenger argues is that he views public and private writing in different ways. His more private writing is done in journals, and as a result, he doesn't feel as self conscious about what he is saying, how he is saying it, etc. And this got me thinking about blogging. Doesn't blogging blur the lines between the private and the public? And if it does, how do you maneuver through this? I find that I turn to the blog in the same way as I would a journal. I want to write about what I am personally thinking inside one moment in time, but in that space, I also realize that these thoughts will be made public for others to read. I want the mutual correspondence and collaborative feedback, but there is also this impending fear and doubt whether or not the words are polished enough to appear in this forum.
So, I'm curious...do you experience these dilemmas as a blogger as well?
What Bruce Ballenger argues is that he views public and private writing in different ways. His more private writing is done in journals, and as a result, he doesn't feel as self conscious about what he is saying, how he is saying it, etc. And this got me thinking about blogging. Doesn't blogging blur the lines between the private and the public? And if it does, how do you maneuver through this? I find that I turn to the blog in the same way as I would a journal. I want to write about what I am personally thinking inside one moment in time, but in that space, I also realize that these thoughts will be made public for others to read. I want the mutual correspondence and collaborative feedback, but there is also this impending fear and doubt whether or not the words are polished enough to appear in this forum.
So, I'm curious...do you experience these dilemmas as a blogger as well?
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Tonight I Can Write...
Tonight I can write about the last week I will spend in this apartment, filled with boxes, white walls, and muted sounds.
Tonight I can write about wondering when I will be in my lover's arms again, after deadlines have been met, and office lights no longer flicker.
Tonight I can write about news today of my cousin's death, and the woman whose make-up smeared when she crossed the median and didn't notice him there.
Tonight I can write...
But on nights such as these, I don't know where to begin, what pictures to paint, what brushes to use. Because I haven't written for myself in so long, and this leaves words filled with dust, filled with hollowness. I see others who have something to say. Others whose colored walls light smiles on the page. Whose memories will not be long forgotten after they have gone. But mine? Mine have stayed within me, and now I don't know where to begin.
So tonight, and I hope only this night, this is all that I have to say.
Monday, May 2, 2011
One Generation's Length Away...
For Taunt Anne:
There's a great song by John Mayer that I've been thinking about today. He talks about how he is "one generation's length away from finding life out on [his] own." Hear for yourself:
Another one of my older relatives passed today. It is becoming a lot more frequent these days, which I would expect. That's been the tough part about "midlife." As much as I'll deny that 40 is fast approaching, the reality is that it is. What bothers me most is not the growing bags under my eyes or the course gray hairs that stick straight up or the fact that I now need help to get up off the floor. It's that as time continues to pass, I am losing the "older and wiser" people in my life at a faster rate. I am starting to look within myself more for the "answers" or turning to those around me who are also my age, struggling themselves to figure out life as it comes.
At these times, I miss those mornings when I was barely a teenager sitting in my grandmother's rocking chair in the corner of her kitchen. I would hold a coffee cup that was more full of milk than coffee because it made me feel older. I miss the nights that I would sit at the bar with my aunt as I asked all of the questions I had on my mind. She never stopped the steady stream that came at her...not even at 2 or 3 in the morning. I miss the fact that I could now sit with my father and ask him about what I have discovered as an adult.
And what I am discovering most of all is the brevity of life and the simplicity that is what makes it so special. It is nothing new. It is nothing noteworthy. But what I need to work on is learning that lesson. It is so easily forgotten amid the hectic work day. The rain-filled day where I worry about getting cold or wet. The day when I hit the snooze too many times because I am tired.
My Aunt Anne taught me a great lesson in life, and on the day she passed, I now share it with you. Shortly before she turned 90, her hot water heater exploded. It was only inches away from where she was sitting watching TV. Miraculously, it exploded upward, caught the roof on fire, and she escaped unharmed. Her house, on the other hand, did not. I remember walking through her home. I remember smelling wet carpet and charred walls. Anne had lost everything. I saw her standing in front of a neighbor's home, and I didn't know what I was going to say. I imagined she would be devastated and at a loss for words. I walked over to her and gave her a hug. I told her how sorry I was. She said that she was very lucky and felt blessed. She had come out alive.
As one of the many in my life who have taught me great lessons...thank you, Anne.
There's a great song by John Mayer that I've been thinking about today. He talks about how he is "one generation's length away from finding life out on [his] own." Hear for yourself:
Another one of my older relatives passed today. It is becoming a lot more frequent these days, which I would expect. That's been the tough part about "midlife." As much as I'll deny that 40 is fast approaching, the reality is that it is. What bothers me most is not the growing bags under my eyes or the course gray hairs that stick straight up or the fact that I now need help to get up off the floor. It's that as time continues to pass, I am losing the "older and wiser" people in my life at a faster rate. I am starting to look within myself more for the "answers" or turning to those around me who are also my age, struggling themselves to figure out life as it comes.
At these times, I miss those mornings when I was barely a teenager sitting in my grandmother's rocking chair in the corner of her kitchen. I would hold a coffee cup that was more full of milk than coffee because it made me feel older. I miss the nights that I would sit at the bar with my aunt as I asked all of the questions I had on my mind. She never stopped the steady stream that came at her...not even at 2 or 3 in the morning. I miss the fact that I could now sit with my father and ask him about what I have discovered as an adult.
And what I am discovering most of all is the brevity of life and the simplicity that is what makes it so special. It is nothing new. It is nothing noteworthy. But what I need to work on is learning that lesson. It is so easily forgotten amid the hectic work day. The rain-filled day where I worry about getting cold or wet. The day when I hit the snooze too many times because I am tired.
My Aunt Anne taught me a great lesson in life, and on the day she passed, I now share it with you. Shortly before she turned 90, her hot water heater exploded. It was only inches away from where she was sitting watching TV. Miraculously, it exploded upward, caught the roof on fire, and she escaped unharmed. Her house, on the other hand, did not. I remember walking through her home. I remember smelling wet carpet and charred walls. Anne had lost everything. I saw her standing in front of a neighbor's home, and I didn't know what I was going to say. I imagined she would be devastated and at a loss for words. I walked over to her and gave her a hug. I told her how sorry I was. She said that she was very lucky and felt blessed. She had come out alive.
As one of the many in my life who have taught me great lessons...thank you, Anne.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Absence of Presence
Yeah, this blog idea is working well for me...I think I may be averaging one post every other month. Ah, we get busy, don't we? And damn if life doesn't get in the way...which brings me to my topic for this post.
I've been thinking about articles I've read, news stories I've heard, and conversations I've had with friends of mine about Facebook...and the "dangers" it can have on people's self-esteem. I know, you've heard the reports. Too much time spent on FB can cause us to lose our ability to have actual face-to-face conversations, we spend too much time on the computer and not enough in the "real world," we start flipping through other people's posts and pictures and begin to think their lives are better than ours or more exciting...oh wait...go back to that last one for a second.
Does that happen to you? Seriously...have you ever found yourself going through someone's recent pictures or posts and think, damn...why isn't my life like that? She looks like she has her life together, and I feel like a loser for grading and doing laundry on a Friday night. (Let the record show that tonight is different...I'm doing laundry, but I spiced things up a bit...and took out the trash.)
Here's my problem (if you say I have more than one by this point, we'll discuss that issue at a later time.). I tend to WANT to post on FB when my life ISN'T going all that great. And if everyone else did once in a while, I wouldn't feel this pressure for my life to be perfect all the time. I mean, don't you need "friends" the most when you are down and out? (I say "friends"...because honestly, I probably only actually have conversations with about 20 out of my 200+) Don't you feel better when other people's lives aren't all Mary Poppins? I mean, really...the only birds flying around me are the ones that fly into my window and take an hour to recover. Is it okay that I post that?
So, yeah. Life can be pretty good...but it's not all you'll ever see from me. I can look in the mirror and chant, "I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And, gosh darnit, people like me." But the older I get, the more realistic I get. And sometimes, I just need to see that I'm not the only one who finds life a challenge every now and again.
I've been thinking about articles I've read, news stories I've heard, and conversations I've had with friends of mine about Facebook...and the "dangers" it can have on people's self-esteem. I know, you've heard the reports. Too much time spent on FB can cause us to lose our ability to have actual face-to-face conversations, we spend too much time on the computer and not enough in the "real world," we start flipping through other people's posts and pictures and begin to think their lives are better than ours or more exciting...oh wait...go back to that last one for a second.
Does that happen to you? Seriously...have you ever found yourself going through someone's recent pictures or posts and think, damn...why isn't my life like that? She looks like she has her life together, and I feel like a loser for grading and doing laundry on a Friday night. (Let the record show that tonight is different...I'm doing laundry, but I spiced things up a bit...and took out the trash.)
Here's my problem (if you say I have more than one by this point, we'll discuss that issue at a later time.). I tend to WANT to post on FB when my life ISN'T going all that great. And if everyone else did once in a while, I wouldn't feel this pressure for my life to be perfect all the time. I mean, don't you need "friends" the most when you are down and out? (I say "friends"...because honestly, I probably only actually have conversations with about 20 out of my 200+) Don't you feel better when other people's lives aren't all Mary Poppins? I mean, really...the only birds flying around me are the ones that fly into my window and take an hour to recover. Is it okay that I post that?
So, yeah. Life can be pretty good...but it's not all you'll ever see from me. I can look in the mirror and chant, "I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And, gosh darnit, people like me." But the older I get, the more realistic I get. And sometimes, I just need to see that I'm not the only one who finds life a challenge every now and again.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Heart to Heart
The past week the South has seen some crazy weather. Tuesday we were hit with an ice storm that lingered around due to freezing temps and then came several inches of snow to make life more interesting. As a result, I found myself stuck inside for three days, home from work, trying to figure out how to occupy my "free" time.
I think it's interesting that I don't know what to do with myself when I don't have to go to work. Work fills up my time so naturally, so easily. When I'm not working, I feel like I'm not being productive. I've forgotten how to just sit back, relax, sip on some tea, and pick up a book "just for fun." I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that I am not comfortable with silence. With stillness. I think too much when it's quiet. I find myself contemplating life, wondering if I'm doing everything I can be doing...doing everything I should be.
It's what I do best.
My family jokes with me all the time about that "quality." And, to make it worse, I now have a Ph.D. in analyzing and critical thinking. So, now I'm Dr. Analyze Everything and have made a living out of it.
Last night I found myself watching about hour 100 of TV (I needed the noise this week). There was a Barbara Walters special on heart disease (yesterday was "Go Red" day in case you missed it). She interviewed about five celebrities from Robin Williams to Bill Clinton, talking and sharing stories about their common experiences about open heart surgery. All of them were somewhere in their 50's when this happened. And, of course, I am reminded of my own father who never made it out of his 50's because of a heart attack.
My mind immediately kicked into gear.
I'm now 14 years removed from his death, and the wounds have pretty much healed. But what I continue to work on and struggle with is the ability to just go with life and enjoy it. I've lost enough people in my life to know that life is only temporary. I know that. I know that friends can (and have) died, that people won't die in "chronological order," that I could very well not be here tomorrow. So with that said, why then do I still find myself unable to just sit back, relax, and find peace in silence? Just listen to the snow melting off of the rooftops. Just listen to my breathing and be thankful that I am.
Just listen.
Maybe I'll work on doing that today...right after I turn off the radio and stop looking over papers I need to finish up for school on Monday.
I think it's interesting that I don't know what to do with myself when I don't have to go to work. Work fills up my time so naturally, so easily. When I'm not working, I feel like I'm not being productive. I've forgotten how to just sit back, relax, sip on some tea, and pick up a book "just for fun." I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that I am not comfortable with silence. With stillness. I think too much when it's quiet. I find myself contemplating life, wondering if I'm doing everything I can be doing...doing everything I should be.
It's what I do best.
My family jokes with me all the time about that "quality." And, to make it worse, I now have a Ph.D. in analyzing and critical thinking. So, now I'm Dr. Analyze Everything and have made a living out of it.
Last night I found myself watching about hour 100 of TV (I needed the noise this week). There was a Barbara Walters special on heart disease (yesterday was "Go Red" day in case you missed it). She interviewed about five celebrities from Robin Williams to Bill Clinton, talking and sharing stories about their common experiences about open heart surgery. All of them were somewhere in their 50's when this happened. And, of course, I am reminded of my own father who never made it out of his 50's because of a heart attack.
My mind immediately kicked into gear.
I'm now 14 years removed from his death, and the wounds have pretty much healed. But what I continue to work on and struggle with is the ability to just go with life and enjoy it. I've lost enough people in my life to know that life is only temporary. I know that. I know that friends can (and have) died, that people won't die in "chronological order," that I could very well not be here tomorrow. So with that said, why then do I still find myself unable to just sit back, relax, and find peace in silence? Just listen to the snow melting off of the rooftops. Just listen to my breathing and be thankful that I am.
Just listen.
Maybe I'll work on doing that today...right after I turn off the radio and stop looking over papers I need to finish up for school on Monday.
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