The Truth about Blogs

The fantabulous thing about blogs is that if you don’t like the one you’ve just opened, you don’t have to stick around with your nose poked in the computer, you can leave. The posts are pretty short, the blogs are many, many, many. Open a new one. I can write what I want and no matter how bad it is, how irreverent or inaccurate, stupid or insulting, discombobulated the writing mechanics or thoughts, even a tenacious reader is done in about three minutes. Shut it down, move on. Some readers may harbor pleasant, while others, resentful, thoughts. It’s what blogging is all about. This is my site, this post is my own, and your comments add to the scope. If you like this post, take a gander around the rest of my blog – there are other articles you might enjoy. If you’ve exercised your right to exit – well, you aren’t here anymore anyway.Readers may turn me off by scooting around to someone else’s blog for better reading, more laughs, memories, indignation, viewpoints, or great photos (of which there are few on my blog, unfortunately.) In fact, no matter what I write, the words are my own, guaranteed no plagiarism at all, though I occasionally host a guest blogger – words, their own. But I do have a responsibility to my readers, to myself.

 

I really do hope you are still reading. You see, I started my personal blog for the reason many have begun the same venture. I want you, Reader, to return. Return to my personal blog to acknowledge my craftsmanship and potentially to beg some agent to publish my books, please. OK, that’s a long shot for an arrow. This site is my platform, one of those old fashioned soap boxes on which I stand and exhort the masses, only all is shouted through computer screen rather than paper trumpet. I must write as well as possible, insult few, and assist many to convince all that I have the short line to the real deal, sculpting a byway through the morass of history and histrionics that will guide everyone to the white light at the end of the tunnel.

 

Most of us function to provide affirmation for the reason that we are here on Earth. We sleep at night knowing we have sheltered our children, loved our partners, comforted our parents, calmed our neighbors, placated our bosses, confirmed our plans, treatied our enemies, resolved global warming, ignited world peace, inflamed the apathetic, ascertained the truth, and bowed before God. I’m not talking religion here, that’s your own choice or your non-choice, but the final moment each night when you lay your head to rest knowing as in the child’s prayer, if I should die before I wake.

 

What then? What if I die and all is not done? What if I didn‘t complete what I was meant to do, whose fault is that? For all the blame I may lay at the feet of the blind lady of justice or horrible traffic, the fault remains my own. Too much couch potato-ing or social distraction, and I go to sleep leaving tasks in disarray. Not just the laundry still in its stinky pile or the bills too close to due date, but more essential things. Did I hush my husband when he was excited to tell me about his day, just to listen to the TV? Have I neglected to provide solace to friends in their distress, or failed to tell a student how much progress she’s made? Did I yell No so loudly that the person before me trembled when might I have only arched my eyebrows? Or even simply held my voice? Have I driven too fast and risked the safety of others, or taken credit from a person more worthy? Have I wasted resources and thereby stolen from my grandchildren, ignoring a chance to change what might ensure a healthier future for all children?

 

What then of waking? It must afford a new chance to do my best in all areas where someone counts on me, and a fresh opportunity to learn a function that improves not just my life, but that of others. I share the Earth. I can’t do heart surgery or construct a bridge, but I can astutely observe the whole world, thank you, WWW Information Highway, and glean plenty of reasons to take action. Because I share the Earth with all of you. Lots to be done besides turning off the water while I brush my teeth, though that’s a start. Much more to be done.

 

My other start is here on this blog, a smaller venue but one that deserves attention. The last months have taken away the few spare moments when I might have, should have, written, and I’ve not written for too long a while. I can’t make a marble promise to write on a committed schedule though I intend to try.

 

I write because I want readers who will think and comment and help me grow. I am an old woman but there is much time ahead of me and each day a new discovery makes my time here more palpable, reveals more possibilities about what I might yet make of myself, what I might bequeath to those who will come later. Each story, whether a remembrance disclosed of sudden clarity or a tale woven of my imagination, builds a library, my legacy. I write because my revelations might inform you in some crucial way that will help you deal with your unresolved issues, confusion, questions about what is going on here. Inside the words, between the lines, a nugget of truth stands boldly on its black ink legs and proclaims, Now you’ve got it! I write to entertain and inform and I sincerely hope that I’ve done that for you. If I should die before I wake, let all know that I did the best I could and let it be nearly complete.