What I do notice is that having a blog – even a stealth blog about which two other people on earth even know exists – I’ve developed the equivalent of stage fright. It’s not as if I’m not working on material … but somehow I feel it must be very polished and completely finished “art” – as in poetry or prose filled with meaning.
Most other blogs appear to be free-association. Psychotherapy without the therapist, in general. And as anyone who knows me realizes, I have a TON of opinions about all sorts of things.
I suppose the quandary is that I’m not quite sure what this blog “ought” to be. Poetry on the wing that hasn’t found its place on the inklings site? Opinions on world events? Complaints about the dog footprints on the rug?
On one hand I’m concerned that this looks like the Wasteland – or a desert, to be more accurate – as if I’m devoid of ideas, opinions, or written reflections. On the other I’m reminded of that quote about the owl who sat on the branch and kept his mouth shut and learned by listening.
On the other hand (I know: three hands – that’s the way my thinking often works), perhaps this “desert time” is ok, too. Very theological: Moses and the people of Israel in their 40 years wandering in the desert. Although I don’t think it would make much sense to have a blog that is silent for 40 years…
Perhaps I should post One Thing I’ve Learned each day…. That would be an interesting spiritual discipline. And very helpful, even if what I learn is a “repeated lesson” from the past; not all lessons are original material, often they are reviews.
Message ends. (As they say in Red Dwarf.)