Hi! It’s been so long. I’ve almost forgotten how to write anything but to-do lists.
Last year my blog’s host notified me that the price to have this tiny space in the cybersphere was going up. The price went from one latte a month to about five lattes a month. (I measure all things in lattes.) That seemed like a lotta lattes for a hobby I couldn’t even seem to find time to enjoy. I couldn’t see buying five steaming hot lattes a month just to let them sit full, cold, and untouched in Starbucks while I drove off empty-handed. Somehow in my strange way of justifying things, I could justify throwing away four dollars a month, but not twenty. So I found a new host that would allow me to just throw away one latte a month. However, in the transfer of my blog I lost all the words. I misunderstood. I pushed the buttons. The wrong buttons. Poof. Gone. Sad.
My first thought went like this: NOOOOOooooo! All those words. All that time spent putting the words out there.
So much of what I do is undone right away. Lessons are forgotten, people are hungry again, dishes are dirty again, laundry baskets are full again. My blog was a place I could go to see something I’d made. It was there.
Then it wasn’t.
My next thought came with a deep sigh: So what? Words are just a vapor, right? Ethereal. Intangible. Apathy set in. There are so many great thinkers out there. So many words out there already. So what if my words aren’t out there? Why did I even write those thoughts? Why does anyone write thoughts. Thoughts are stupid.
Blogs are weird anyway.
There is something really weird about this one-way conversation in which I share deep thoughts with you but may not even know that you’ve spent time in my mind and heart. I love blogs partly for that reason. I get to be a fly on the wall of your brain and heart. You don’t see me smile and nod. You don’t feel the relief I feel when I realize I’m not the only one. On the flip side, if I don’t like what you have to say, then I can rage privately about it. You don’t see me shaking my head in bewilderment. And that’s kind of weird. It’s also weird that words in a blog are out there for anyone to read, and they’re unapproved. No filters. No editors. We have no idea if our thoughts are worthy. For me, this lack of outside editing can make me super insecure.
So anyway, I’ve let a lot of lattes go to waste. Cold. Unsavored. Poured down the drain.
But then, I thought of something: I love to read. I really love it. I love to read books, blogs, articles. I love thoughts. I love words. They move me, inspire me, anger me, and ultimately make me feel alive.
Someone puts those ethereal and intangible words out there, and I consume them because ideas and thoughts are valuable to me. Maybe my words can be of value, too, not to everyone, but to someone. Not to mention, there is something holy about words. In the beginning was the Word…
So as this new year dawns, I think I’d like to pick up the steaming hot latte I just purchased and savor it. I’ll sip it and let it warm me. I will make an effort to put this hobby of mine, this ethereal and fleeting thing, on the to-do list. Since I have rough drafts of many of my blogs, perhaps when I feel like an uninspired blob, I’ll retype the old words. What I do know is that I miss this space. I want to fill it with words again. I want to be here. I hope you’ll want to be here too.