Four years (and a month and a bit) ago I started writing this blog. I say writing, but it has been more like dropping in and out. There are lots of times, like lately, when I’m pretty sure I have nothing important or interesting to say. Other times I’m fairly burning with the desire to share my thoughts.
I recently saw a documentary about Rachel Carson, the author most notably of Silent Spring. I was surprised by how many things in her life were similar to my own experiences–like being hijacked by a love of biology in college when she had other plans for her life. One thing that particularly resonated with me was that she sometimes had trouble concentrating on writing when others things, hard things, interrupted her life. I know how she must have felt.
As always, ideas for what to write for this blog come to mind, often at night, but sitting down and writing them is another thing. Perhaps it’s time to retire the blog, I say to myself. There are so many, less important things I could be doing. For instance, there is a garden to plan and seeds to start, although it’s months before anything can go in the ground. And last year’s garden was so miserable I swore I’d never grow another thing…but then the days started getting longer, and the beds have a new layer of well-rotted stall cleanings, and what will the squirrels eat if they can’t raid my garden? I got a keyboard for my birthday, so I can finally get serious about learning to play the piano. And I have a new knitting pattern and a stash of yarn, so there is needle work to get on with. And Spanish to learn. And cats to annoy. And friends to stay in touch with.
I have a book written and only in need of some serious editing. Rewriting to completion should be as easy as falling off a log (not that I’ve done that lately, but once learned it can easily be repeated). And yet, I seem to keep getting stuck. My lack of focus has me a little worried. But honestly, if I never write another blog post or never finish the novel, will the world be in any way adversely affected?
I’m not one of those people who have to write no matter what. I know they are out there. But that’s not me. I can write or not. See here? I’m not writing. Don’t need to. Not missing it. But then again, just like I can’t walk past a seed display in the store and not want to buy the promise of something to grow, I can’t seem to kick the habit of wanting to put some words down and inflict them on my friends and family and other helpless innocents. The only problem is, there may be some really long pauses between posts. You’ve probably noticed that. I have no excuses. So perhaps it’s time to get back to it. There must be something worth saying. You can’t lead a life as dissipated as mine and not have garnered some insight or wisdom or opinions or cautionary tales. Stay tuned. I might yet write something profound. Or at least entertaining.
Now back to all the really unimportant stuff that is calling my name.
Image: Baby plants. By Marilyn Evans.