I started this blog after a few years of wrestling with myself about whether anything I had to say mattered to anyone.
It wasn’t the launch of a pity party; it was the launch of relevance and of voice.
In person, I have been blessed with friends and foes. They have all taught me something about myself, but it wasn’t until I started sharing my stories with you, that my own personhood, three-dimensional style on this blog, that I felt like I was contributing to the life flow.
I’ve published photos, poems, fiction, personal accounts, essays, and memoir content on this blog. I’ve written guest posts (some of the funniest content ever, I’ll find it and get it back here) and I’ve hosted guest writers and through it all, my audience base has grown modestly and slowly which is just fine with me.
I want to be world famous, yes, I admit it. Finally. But I also know that I don’t have the stamina nor the scandal to maintain worldwide fame, so I’m glad to have loyal readers like you.
I’ve made friends with people I know only online and their kindnesses and shoulders have been tremendous blessings to me. Hands down, they are usually kinder than people I know in the flesh. I have found that the concept about how online anonymity engenders nasty behavior also applies to kindness in people; sometimes people find it easier to reach out and be loving with the buffer of the ether.
Regarding my blog, I don’t know if everyone reads every word, but I know that I’m doing something right because of most of the comments I get privately and in the comments field.
Just when I think I’m done, when I begin to wonder about whether I’m just being another desperate voice in the windstorm and no one can hear me, someone chimes in and tells me that what I’ve written has fixed or addressed a broken part of them or even more humbling, that I’ve changed their life. I have had people in my physical world who quietly surf and never say a thing; that’s OK too.
So I want to say thank you, as I always have at the end of each post, for reading. For getting all the way to the end of the piece and sticking with me all this time. Really. Thanks.
I also asked a bunch of FB friends to “like” my GrassOil Fan Page. If you haven’t already, would you mind? I don’t post very often there, but I am working on that. It’s been a shitty year.
New Series starting tomorrow:
Because I never seem to start things on time, I’m launching a new series to get me writing again. It will be based on “365 Days of Living Your Yoga” by Judith Hansen-Lassiter, PhD. It’s a great little book with very short pieces on mindfulness, actual yoga pose suggestions and the like. I’m going to address a quote I pick at random, thanks to a roll of a pair of dice, and share with you in hopefully less than 500 words (we are at 417 words now).
It will start tomorrow. I will pre-write some of the pieces and if they include a yoga pose, I’ll find a picture or link to it.
All the craziness of this year: two major deaths in my family, lots of social bullshit for my kids and the adults here, new dog and how he’s changed the dynamic, and general mayhem in the grief have shown me that more than ever it’s important to reach out.
Charlie, the puppy, bit one of my sons about two months ago; it required stitches. In his face. Near his eye. I haven’t talked about it because, well, I’m full of doubt and sadness about it all.
I’m tired or writing about the sadnesses, there is so much LIFE! going on here too. It’s just that it’s hard to get out from under the garbage at times without smelling like crap. And when you smell like crap, no one wants to be near you. People are all, “Oh, look at that once-approachable person … woman … She used to not smell like garbage, but now she does and well … how do we help her? Do we pick the garbage off her? But then where do we put it? Latex gloves, can we find some? I don’t want to offend her though, but she … well, she IS a biohazard at the moment… Is that apple pie in her hair? Someone find a stick so we can take some of the layers of detritus off her and put it in a bag. Does anyone have a hose? She needs a cleaning….”
Life goes on. So shall I.
We are at 789 words right now. I hope my little series won’t abuse you, and that you’ll try a pose if one happens to materialize in the quote and that you’ll tell me how you are doing.