I suppose this would have been a better topic to write about for my first entry, but then that would have been more planned and we all know my thoughts are random.
While it’s cited that the term *blog* has been in use for 10 years,
The blogs of hobby bloggers, like me, are easy to spot though. Blog publishing systems, like Blogger, are a newbie’s dream. (On a somewhat related tangent, bear with me as I learn all the trade secrets.) Anyone who aspires to blog can. Very few things in life work that way. One day you’re sitting on your couch and you say, I’d like to play the guitar or I’d like to repel mountains. In 30 minutes time, you won’t be doing either of those things… but you can be a blogger extraordinaire. The truth is, I set up my blog while I was waiting for that chicken to bake last night (and drinking my wine). Countrymouse was impressed. (I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now.)
I imagine the real question is why do people blog. Why am I blogging? Everyone has his or her own agenda, but it’s something I’ve toyed with for a good while. When I found myself driving around composing potential blogs in my mind, I knew the idea had definitely grown past the burgeoning stages. For me it’s primarily a creative channel. I love to write. Being the editor of the yearbook and newspaper in high school made me think I wanted to be a print journalist. I started college with that notion. The trouble was I didn’t like journalism. I loved reading Bryon and Keats. I wanted to be Kathy on the moors with Heathcliff. I am still moved by words. (This is probably part of my love affair with music, but I’ll save that for another day.) What I enjoyed about my high school experience was the layout and artistic functions of those activities. Blogging satisfies a desire to be expressive… in words and by design.
I don’t esteem my thoughts as interesting to anyone but myself, so I can honestly say that I am doing this for me. Perhaps I have reached a place in my life that I need to refocus on some of what makes me *me*.
It’s almost cliche, but there have been countless words written about the plight of the middle-aged woman.
We are wives, lovers, mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, caregivers, colleagues. The hats we wear are equally countless. Something I never come away with after reading any of those articles is that we are all those things by choice (usually). Of course, I am not saying that I wouldn’t mind a housekeeper once a week to do my bathrooms and floors (hint hint). There isn’t one hat that I wear that I would like to give up permanently. I like my life. Liking your life doesn’t mean every day is walk through high cotton (trust me). What I think the problem is, is that we are so busy wearing all our hats and trying to figure how to keep them from slipping off our heads that we don’t always recognize the face that is under the hats.
That’s where I find myself today. This is why I am blogging. It’s so very satisfying to see your thoughts grow on paper (okay, that’s the romantic in me speaking… we all know I’m seeing these words on a screen). So many things in life stir me. Many times, it’s the silly, ubiquitous things. And it’s in the noticing that something sparks inside me. I become thankful that I stopped and paid attention. Putting those thoughts and observations on paper helps me remember them… it humbles me and excites me at the same time. These are the things that make me like my life. These are the things I hope to write about.