Reset: What’s the point?
I guess I was so engaged with my new beginnings that I failed to keep posting. And more of the truth is that I have been reluctant to post…to be public in general. I lost touch with the purpose of writing here.
Blogging as a way of communicating is easily deceptive. I mean that I can easily trick myself into believing that the words I write are only for me. From my perspective, the words are typed from my keyboard where no one is watching me type them and therefore, who could know to look for them on the internet? I write alone, therefore my words live in a blog cave. It’s quite plausible to me that no one ever reads what I write. And somehow, by just believing that, I can return to writing as a practice of enjoyment and expression. I find that whenever I express something for the sake of expressing it the results seem to more rewarding, effective, and satisfying. When I make a result the focus for my process of expression, things seem to come out wonky, forced, and the process becomes exhaustive. Not always, but often.
But why blog? I have a journal I can easily write in and enjoy the freedom of expression that privacy encourages. So I started thinking about why this blogging thing is worth my while. Well, what if there were a fire or natural environmental event that destroyed all documents and artifacts with my individual expressions on them? With a blog, my words are preserved and protected from natural disasters, as long as eventually, somewhere in the world, a portal could be reset to access the site.
I think if I had a readership (people who actually read what I write here) I would want to say sorry for my absence. But I think it might just be my parents who check this website and my brother who is the administrator. And maybe that’s the other reason that I am not consistent with writing…my audience already knows me - they are my family. So what’s the point of writing? Well, I guess for this entry, the point has been to just get me to show up and write for the pleasure it brings me. Me as my own audience when I’m older and very far removed from the times in which these thoughts were born. And writing here allows me to pretend that my voice, my words, and ideas have a place in this world. That way of looking at things makes it safer and more manageable for the lesser developed parts of myself that fear destruction. And if you are reading this and happen not to be a relative or friend then hopefully there is some value in these words for you. Otherwise, as a reader…what’s the point?
