I had planned on celebrating handwritten letters all week, but I'm fresh out of ideas and the energy to compose one today. I guess that's why it's a lost art. It takes time and thought and ...does anyone really care anyway?
I suppose that's one advantage of running your own blog. You can promise people things and not deliver. You can change your mind on the spur of the moment. You can even leave this page intentionally blank.
I had such high hopes for this new blog. I thought it would be different, a new kind of voice...fresh. But I see it developing just exactly like my old ones. And with it, the new year also takes on familiar molds, old habits, repeated routines and diminished hopes. Why is it that a clean slate is so exciting at first, and then it takes only days to become a messy hodgepodge of unimportant tracks that form a weary rut?
I suppose I also deceived myself to thinking that the new year would change me. That I would look in the mirror and see bright eyes and silky hair and energy that exuded from my pores like sweet honey.
But, no. I am still me. Still trying to grasp that better part of me, that faint voice that murmurs from somewhere inside my heart - only to be silenced by trivial obligations.
I have never been a leader. I have always been a follower. I usually accomplish something if I'm told what to do- and how and when to do it. I rarely take that first step, that so-called plunge, the gamble, the chance...I feel safer when someone lights the way, holds my hand, carves the path for me. Why?
Is it the fear of failure? Of appearing independent, aloof, unconventional? Of being laughed at, frowned upon, deserted?
Less than halfway through this first month of the year and I'm already talking discouraging words and sucking myself into a cave of my own making. Didn't I imagine all these days to be open and bright... and redesigned?
I suppose I haven't wasted too much time. It's better I recognize it now than six months down the road where habits just snowball into a huge blur of lost years. I've got to venture out and find new eyes. I must take that giant leap of faith.
I am truly sorry this blog has not been Fresh. But, it is me.
And that's all I can promise you.
4 comments:
My Dear Sister:
How could you ever say your blog is not "Fresh"? For me and Linda and all of your followers, you are our fresh start to the day. The fact that you don't have a strict plan in place everyday for your blog is "Fresh" to us. You go from silly facts to things that make us stop and realize how great life is. You bring us information, whether useful or not (LOL), and then you throw in a poem that grips our hearts and makes us cry. Your blog may be called "Fresh"...but it's your creative mind that makes it fresh everyday. You were born to write, don't ever forget that! I love you gobs!
DITTO the above comment by Jewel.
Oh Rae,
you have never bored me,
puzzled me,
angered me,
disappointed me,
or hurt me.
But you have made me laugh,
made me smile,
made me cry with emotions,
made me remember my past,
made me think about my actions toward others,
and most of all you have made me want to come back to your blog time and time again.
I don't care what your theme is
how often you post or what you post about.
It is what is in your heart that I really care about.
Your writing ability is so wonderful that I look forward to reading your new treasure everytime I stop by. And I enjoy all of your topics..no matter what you chose to write about.
Write from your heart, write for yourself, write about your world.
But most important...write for yourself.
I have always told you that I would follow you to what ever type of blog you choose to create. I love your writing style, how easy you can write right from your heart.
And I love how you can remind all of us what this life is really about...love, compassion, and family.
If blogging isn't what you are looking for then...follow your heart.
Just please don't loose touch with me. You are bright shinning star in my life.
Warm hugs, Gail
I couldn't have said it any better than Jewel and Gail - so I'll only echo Linda's DITTO. I'm never disappointed here, whether it brings a smile, a giggle, or a tear to my eye.
Cathy
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