It may be time for me to think about the purpose of the blog. Is it just to give me a sense of purpose? Is it to help me explore whether I want to pursue writing as a vocation at this point in my life journey?
It certainly does give me a focus and a place to organize as well as share my thoughts. In many respects the process of writing and sharing a blog is similar to the process of letter writing which I have spent a lot of time doing since I first left the home of my family of origin. Of course, at that time, there was no email or texting. Long distance phone calls usually indicated a family emergency although there was that occasional check in call to my parents. Mostly, however, I relied on letters to keep in touch, to sort through and share thoughts and feelings, and to invite others to share their thoughts and feelings Letters have also been an invitation to challenge my opinions and thoughts.
Initially I corresponded mainly with my mother, my paternal grandmother, and my Aunt Pleasie. Even though many of the most treasured books of letters are those of famous men, for the most part, it is the women in the family who are charged with or take on the responsibility for nurturing relationships in person or via letters or other forms of communication. I did get one letter from my father which, as I recall, was to reassure me that it was okay that I had decided not to finish my education at the U.S. Naval Academy. I recall putting that letter in a safe place but during one of my many moves, I lost the letter. It may have remained in Oregon where I stored a couple of boxes of personal possessions temporarily. Sadly, shortly after storing the boxes those friends decided to end our friendship. This followed my sharing that I thought I was gay. I never heard from them after that.
As I moved around the country, the number of people with whom I corresponded via letter or brief notes expanded. Soon there were large boxes of letters I received from others including my son. I have since disposed of most of those letters since there was little chance that they would be of interest to anyone else. These included 15 or more years of weekly two and three page letters from my friend Jim in Denver. When he died a few years ago, a mutual friend, Bill, offered me the binders which contained copies of his letters as well as mine to him. I declined fearing that they would just add to the burden of “stuff” which my son would have to sort through upon my demise.
At some point I started using the typewriter and later the computer to type my letters. For many years after it first became an option, I did not use email because most people I knew did not have access to email. Also, my internet access was for several years restricted to dial up phone access which was very slow. I had made a bargain with myself that I could have high speed internet access when I let go of my addiction to cigarettes.
Now almost all my letters are typed on the computer. Some, such as the weekly correspondence with friends in Australia, are email letters. Some, such as my weekly letter to my mother or regular correspondence with folks in prison continue to be sent my snail mail. In fact, I continue to marvel at the relatively lost cost of “hiring” a runner to quickly deliver my mail to someone thousands of miles away for a relatively tiny amount of money. I do hand write birthday cards and other notes with my favorite, old fashion fountain pen. My hand writing which was never elegant has now deteriorated to the point that friends complain that even short notes can be barely readable. Actually, short reminder notes to myself are sometimes not readable by me. I vow to practice my penmanship, but alas I have been remiss in honoring this vow. Perhaps today I will practice.
I daily have email correspondence with my friend, Becky, and share very brief email or text notes with a number of other people. I also use email and texting to communicate with clients despite my initial concern about privacy. I invite clients to decide if they want to risk someone hacking into the email. Most decide the ease of this method of communication outweighs their concerns about privacy.
I write because I seem to lack the ability to cogently sort out my thoughts without sharing with someone else. Even sharing orally does not seem to bring me the clarity or the lack thereof as is often the case!
George Orwell is reputed to have said, “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well, and if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them.” I am not entirely sure that this is true for all people. There do seem to be those who think well in the midst of a debate or in general conversations. I am not one of those. Even when having a discussion, sitting in a classroom, listening to a talk, or reading, I am making notes to clarify or perhaps direct the firing of my synapses.
Of course, I am well aware that there are many who are convinced that something is drastically wrong with my brain – that it is constitutionally unable to have a cogent thought particularly when it attempts to articulate a defense of the pacifist position, when arguing for more equal distributions of the resources which mother earth so graciously shares with us, or when visiting such situations as the extremists in this country and others who think that violence is the answer to violence. Those who are thus convinced would argue that my thoughts on paper are no more cogent or representative of a working brain than if I just allowed the words to flow or rather drool out of my mouth.
Perhaps the best reason for writing is one is not sure if one exists if one does not write. Flannery O’Connor perhaps says it best, “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”
For that reason and others, I shall keep writing and, for today, as long as I am going to write, I might as well share via the blog.
Written November 23, 2015
RSS Feed