It seems like more and more people are thinking outside the box, these days. It may or may not always manifest in professional behavior, but overall I still think it’s good for the world.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and got up to write. I finished a blog that started with the last few paragraphs of this one, and promptly lost it to a faulty internet connection and lack of copy & paste common sense. So here I go again… I wrote last night about how I couldn’t sleep and how frustrated I was with my own mwntal limitations.
I’ve imposed these guidelines on myself for this blog, and anymore it seems I let one inspiration after another pass me by because it doesn’t fit the online persona I have imagined myself building.
More than ten years ago, I blogged from the heart. Sometimes multiple posts a day, just because I had a thought I wanted to share or at least write down. I honestly think I had more readers on Livejournal, without my own dedicated domain, than I do today. So who cares if my posts are relevant to specific readers or whether I have a decent picture to go with my blog?
From now on, I write regardless. No holds barred (or at least relatively few) and whenever I feel like it.
I’ve been realizing that I’m getting old. Lately, I look at teenagers and they seem alien to me. Sometimes I feel as if I can relate to their awkwardness, their feigned superiority and even some of their dejected responses to a world they really feel they’ve got little stake in. Other times I realize that the world they have developed in is breathtakingly different than what I experienced at that age.
They will never remember a time when none of the neighbors owned a computer. Most of them will never be dragged on a road trip with their parents and without a handheld internet device to keep them on-grid and entertained. Maybe I should feel a little grateful.
My isolation as a child drove me to read and find entertainment where I could. The introspection that still makes me feel ill at ease in social situations has also been my relief when the outside world becomes too much to bear. I miss it sometimes, and recall with amusement the raging boredom I struggled with.
I guess the point off all this half-remembered nonsense is that I’ve been wandering off the literary track for too long. I still don’t know if I’m capable of producing anything with my children at home (doubtful) but school starts soon. Charlie is almost ready for playschool and I have been ready to move forward toward anything for longer than I can remember.
From now on I write for me. You’re still welcome toread and comment, though. =)
I had another interesting set of dreams last night. At one point I was out to dinner with the kids and a friend’s husband and child. We were waiting for our significant others to arrive, I believe, only in the dream their child was nearly bald. Next the dream shifted and all of us were swimming in a lake somewhere. I saw Charlie jumping off the end of a pier into the murky water and panicked, swimming over to save him. Before I could get there, however, he surfaced and began floating on his back like a pro -spurting water out of his mouth in a fountain up in the air. Next I was in a car with two of my friends (who get along fairly well these days, but aren’t really close with each other) and we were all in the front seat together. I think we were all going to a movie. Somehow they both ended up climbing onto my lap, and it was really difficult to see and drive safely. I slid the seat backward to make more room and the girl who was on the lap of the girl who was on my lap exhaled with relief, because the steering wheel had been digging into her stomach.
