By reading my blog you give me the opportunity to do the work I love, that is talk about life and its various aspects.
I know, wandering around is one of the things I do best, so I thank you for respecting my voice while I do it.
Why wish on white horses? They give us hope.
I’m a seeker, and I figure that you, being here, must be one too.
They say we didn’t come into this life with a manual on how to live it, but what if in our wanderings, we find one.
Well, I feel better just looking at this picture. How about you?
How many years have I been blogging? A pile.
For the last week or so, though, I have been in a stall. You know one of those
“What’s the use of it?” stalls. Not that I don’t appreciate all you guys who
click in, I just wonder if I have anything of use to offer.
Seth Godin says this about blogging
clicked on it, no one liked it..."
These two ideas are often uttered in the same sentence, but
they're actually not related.
People don't click on
things because they like them, or because they resonate with them, or because
they change them.
They click on things
because they think it will look good to their friends if they share them.
Or they click on things
because it feels safe.
Or because they're bored.
Or because other people
are telling them to.
Think about the things
you chat about over the water cooler. It might be last night's inane TV show,
or last weekend's forgettable sporting event. But the things that really matter
to you, resonate with you, touch you deeply--often those things are far too
precious and real to be turned into an easy share or like or click.
Yes, you can architect
content and sites and commerce to get a click. But you might also choose to
merely make a difference.
Most of us want to make a difference, yet I
wonder, am I?
I wonder why I read blogs.
Sometimes it’s about content. I want to know
how to do something, and thank heavens the internet can tell me how to work
some of these high-tech devices, or the not so high tech, like how to fix the
washing machine. That’s something we didn’t have years ago.
Something I read a blog because it appeals to
check out a blog because I believe it will help me, as Lisa Steele did on #Fresh
Eggs Daily, when my two chickens died on the same day. She was so sympathetic.
(Not my present chickens, they are doing fine.)
we read because we’re curious as I have become interested in the life of Shreve
in her blog #The Daily Coyote.
Sometimes we read for entertainment.
That makes me think of a morning three days
ago when I had sushi for breakfast.
Well it was 11 am, almost lunch time and
daughter wanted sushi, and sitting there I tried to think back to when
American’s found that raw fish dipped in soy sauce and Wasabi horse radish
tasted good. I remember the movie Lifeboat in which one of the fellows offered the
Tallulah Bankhead’s character a tiny filet of fish, and disgusted, she threw it
overboard. (Darn, no soy or Wasabi.)
My mind went off on a tangent, thinking about when
we were kids and stood in the back of a pickup truck while it was barreling
down the road at 50 miles an hour. Nope, I wouldn’t let my kids do that. But we
did, and didn’t think anything about it.
And I thought about how the playground had no
rubber padding, and the slide was so hot we scorched our bare legs on the way
down. We drank a Coke once in a while, as a treat, not as a daily occurrence,
and we didn’t have cup holders on baby seats, car seats, electric wheel barrows
or lawn mowers. How did we ever stay hydrated? And what about those party lines
where the phone was attached to the wall? Horrors.
I’m not saying those
were the good old days, just remembering. A friend of mine who died this year
said she wanted to stay around jut to see what would happen next.
So, what is going to
Who can predict? Right
now I’m thinking that we can watch horror movies, (Why?) or violent ones, and
listen to the naysayers, and let the media scare the pants off us. Oh dear, the
election coverage is already blatant a year before the event will happen. Or,
we can do as Abraham says, “Reach for the thought that feels better.”
We can notice that we
breathed the night through without thinking about it. We can be grateful the
engineers have given us highways in which we can travel in comfort to just
about any place on the continent. (No covered wagons.)
And we have airplanes
that will take us off the continent and bring us back. We can be grateful that this thin layer of
atmosphere--so thin that Mt Everest sticks up above it--sustains us. That we
are lucky to live on this emerald blue and green planet that has such wonders
it could or should put us into a constant state of awe.
Autumn: Outside my
window, one branch on an otherwise green tree is red. And in October flowers
are still blooming, and last night I heard a frog choking…
awk- the sound of a frog choking. Of course I meant to say, “croaking,” but
instead said “choking.” What the heck, it’s funnier.