Ten fingered blogging...
If I could just slow my thoughts a little and write. If I could relate, inspire, produce, spark, infuse, saturate, haunt, re-live, re-love, amuse, distract, inquire, rant, rave.
My sweet husband isn't techno savvy. I asked him if he wanted to hear my blog. He wasn't sure.
"Will it smell?" he asked, using humour to cover his ignorance of all things technical. I explained to him what a blog was - he seemed bored.
"Who will read it?" He asked as though he were concerned that I would write all of our deepest darkest secrets here.
"Hm. Okay, shoot."
His head turned to the book he was writing in. Knowing that the sound of my voice would soon be drowned out by the sound of his thoughts, I prepared to read my silly blog dramatically.
I read. My back was turned to him. I was lost in my own thoughts when I heard him "humph". I finished reading and turned back to him. His book was on his lap and his eyes were on me.
"I'm envious of the way you can put your thoughts on paper", he offered his praise. I corrected him - it wasn't paper... we teased eachother briefly.
Sometimes I fear that I might be forgettable. God says we are but a mist. A mist that is burned off in the welcomed morning sunlight. Is my life really that unimportant and yet so important that he would come rescue me over and over again? Living with that paradox is perplexing. If my life is just a mist, then I should live it up and fly by the seat of my pants, right? Or - do I buckle down and retrieve the lessons I've learned in my short life hoping that anyone who cares to read will find significance there - and infuse my life's lessons into their own. Is that how my life's mist will linger?
I'm curious about this blogging experience. Who reads blogs, anyway? What kind of a world do we live in when we can connect with perfect strangers - relate - and never meet? At least this side of heaven. Are the people who read blogs shallow, lonely, uninteresting? Am I?
I've taken the step to the techi-side. Just as the telephone didn't wipe out intimate communication in the home, blogging won't wipe out the need for tangible friendships and true connection.
My husband doesn't use the computer because he can only type with two fingers. It's Kharma... he can do almost everything else. I've stood and watched as he progressed with his Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing Lessons, but I just can't bear to watch him fuddle his way through it, maddenly frustrating.
I haven't settled my thoughts. They'll likely keep me awake for another hour. But, I must put an end to this day before this day puts and end to me.