February 18, 2009
What kind of show would you be? Would your home be the primary set? Or the local coffee house?
BlogHer is doing a workshop about how to re-invent a blog after the initial reason you started it - ends. I've been struggling with this for years.
I began a website when CD and I were getting married. I shudder to remember the little animation I coded, that made my dress twirl. That I didn't embed Midi music must have been the intercession of a compassionate deity. That site? Won an award.
After I got in the habit of living out loud. I sorta... didn't stop. I've journaled my whole life. This was just a new interpretation of that.
I remember the first person who ever signed my "guestbook". I had never met her in real life, yet she was interested in reading about me. And me, in her. Despite our subsequent life changes since, we remained, virtually, friends.
I began an anonymous blog in a moment of crisis. I had a great job. Challenging, rewarding. I worked from home most of the time, always engaged with room to grow, and had a great team that I loved working with.
And yet?
I was unhappy.
Because as much as I loved my career and everything it meant - I never had a single day when I went to bed thinking I had done right by my son. I told myself it was just guilt. I told myself it was the universal complaint of working parents. I reminded myself of the amazing life my son had.
And then, I cried.
We cannot reason our hearts.
I quit and took on a new life, with wide open eyes. Homeschooling, living on a shoestring, keeping house, cooking dinner, paying bills. I signed up for this woman's army and Hoo-rah, I don't need or expect it to be easy. I stand behind that decision as one of the best I've ever made.
But it's played hell with me as a writer. Hell.
When you stop being mad, and put out the fire in the living room and the marriage and fill in the hole of your life with the whole of your life, well....
Thank you for listening the past month. I know I went quiet for a few days here, but I have not been away. I have been here, re-reading. A lot of very bland, and silly posts. But a couple of goods ones, I think.
I'm not Friends. I'm not Lost. And I've never even been to Las Vegas.
But that doesn't mean that there aren't things left worth saying. Or that this writer can't write them. Here.
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