There is therefore now no condemnation in how I do or don’t work out this whole blogging thing.
I KNEW this was going to be an issue when I started. I KNEW it would be an exercise not only for my head but also for my heart. I KNEW I would say I don’t care but deep down would. Or that I didn’t REALLY want anyone to read it, but then again, I did (blogging ambivalence much?).
I KNEW I would hear the voices of , “Sure, you can sit down to write, IF you have the house spic and span, and IF there is a month’s worth of meals ready to pull out of the freezer, and IF the ironing is all caught up, and IF your kids are well-trained on a housekeeping schedule so that things run like clockwork, and IF you are in-right-out-right-up-right-down-right happyallthetime!”
As it stands, blogging takes time and means being on the computer and coming across other blogs. Or social media. Which means I have to guard against all that raises its voice in judgment and not soak it into my bones.
Taking in what is helpful, releasing what is not. Choosing to confirm what I know is true for me rather than once again becoming swayed by what I KNOW is NOT. Knowing when to engage and when to let go. Recognizing that each person is as unique as the One who created them to fill their niche in the world.
We are not cookie cutters (though some of us have similar ingredients in our dough).
I could write about that.
I continue to wrestle with focus and direction in my writing and blogging. I started a private blog about a week before jumping out to try public blogging for a year back in April, 2013. (That was my goal, if I haven’t mentioned it, before. A year.) So now it has been almost two years. Maybe that is why I’m feeling all quiet and reflective.
Where do we go, where do we go now, where do we go?
I appreciate those of you who read. Who are there offline. Who ask and send words and sit with me in person and understand the quiet. Thank you in advance for loving me enough to show up and help me in sifting through the rotten apple cores and coffee grounds and occasional small animal bedding of my heart.
I am not alone in the quiet.