Every blog I post is a love letter to you.
As words begin to attach themselves to a thought whirling around in my brain, I slowly recognize the emotions that are driving an insistent drumbeat. Therein lies the passion that provokes me to write. As I compose a piece—sometimes slowly and carefully, sometimes rapidly with abandon—I realize the subject of the post is nothing more than a vehicle for relaying how I feel. And what could be more intimate than sharing my inchoate thoughts, thoughts that I am just beginning to understand, with you?
It’s dangerous, frankly. It’s reckless. It’s exhilarating. Nonetheless, I do it.
I don’t always know if my tentative plea to connect with you has been successful. Did my message leap the synapse of time and distance and tingle your nerve endings? Did my words bring us closer? Or did they widen some invisible chasm that threatens to swallow them in its gaping maw?
Sometimes you let me know I reached you. You send an email. Post a comment. Other times, I choose to believe my words prompted a slow simmer that may eventually awaken new awareness, without sparking a too-hot flame.
Sometimes I learn that my cautiously expressed feelings are universal, or at least more widely shared than my ugly self-absorption would have me believe. Sometimes I learn that my words help you sort out your own thoughts.
It has bothered me lately that I seem to have nothing to say to you. No thoughts have bumped rudely around in my head, demanding to be let out. I’ve tried to summon some sort of passion, but I know I cannot press. I must let it develop on its own.
Perhaps a year of loss has finally taken its toll, a summer of disruption has knocked me out of rhythm. Too much death, near and far, both inevitable and avoidable. Too much illness, both inconsequential and critical. I can’t find my balance. I have lost my words.
They may yet return, and I hope you will again allow me to reach out to you, needy and raw, and share what I’m feeling. By doing so, I have learned, I slowly begin to understand myself.
But right now I hate my own voice. It’s irritating. Whiny. Tinny. Uninteresting. Perhaps that will pass. Perhaps not. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll be patient with me, like a faithful dog. We’ll see if my passion for communicating will reignite.
Know that I’m grateful for your loyalty, dear reader. I honor the time you spend with my words. I long to reach out to you with more thoughtful discourse. And I hope that when we do reconnect the frisson will startle us yet once more and prompt unexpected discoveries.
10/9/2021 07:28:01 pm
Good to hear from you!
10/9/2021 08:33:27 pm
I’ll wait patiently.🙂
10/9/2021 09:49:57 pm
How refreshingly honest. Thank you. As usual, your words resonated.
10/9/2021 11:27:15 pm
Keep plugging, Sallie. This sounds like writer's block for blog posts.
10/10/2021 09:37:14 am
Go at your own pace my dear cousin. These are extraordinary times with so many things that are up-
10/10/2021 05:32:36 pm
Thank you for all the words you have shared this year (I am a late discoverer of your power with stories). And the comfort, smiles, and shared emotions and concerns on so many topics. It was just what I needed to restore some balance in my world.
10/10/2021 08:48:09 pm
In the absence of words from you, we know the wheels of your creative mind never cease to churn. When silence gives way to the author's new creation, refreshing words will spring forth from the depths of an invigorating stream, i.e., your heart. We patiently await your next inspiring creation...when you're ready!
10/11/2021 11:57:47 am
Words are hard. :-)
10/11/2021 08:10:03 pm
How quickly I forget!
10/11/2021 03:16:33 pm
These are times when it is better to listen than to speak but, please know when you are speaking, I am always listening.
10/12/2021 09:15:02 am
I love hearing from you anytime, I am always listening, as Elizabeth said. And even when I'm not reading your blog, I am thinking of you.
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