Friends

It's the early hours of the morning again, a time I find myself coming to the computer to discover something and possibly to make a connection. I often do this before finishing my prep for the next day's classes. I went to Bloglines to see who had posted recently and was glad to see that Cynthia of Sorting the pieces had two entries. My heart always jumps when I see she has posted. I enjoy her entries so much.

I was totally moved to see she had listed me as one of eight bloggers she had chosen for the "Friends" Award. This is a description of the award:

"The Friends Award isn't about being the most popular blogger or having the most read blog. It is just because you consider the author a friend. These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

When I started blogging with AOL, Cynthia was one of the first to befriend me, to support me by commenting on my little entries. Our relationship has grown beyond the blogging world, and we have shared e-mails, notes, and cards. I long to see her in person and hope that someday I will.

I am supposed to choose eight other bloggers, but I'm just going to mention four:

1. Cynthia of Sorting the Pieces--right back at cha, for being such a rock through my early days of blogging and for writing entries that continue to inspire me to think deeply, with more empathy. We've exchanged e-mails, cards, and we nip at each other now and then on Facebook. I still owe her a letter! Cynthia's effect on my thinking has been immense. Cyn, you are very important to me.

2. Vince of To Grow Is To Be Anxious--Vince and I shared gifts with each other through the mail once a long while ago, and he reacquainted me with Bruce Springsteen! Vince, you ROCK. Vince and I have had fruitful discussions about Freud, Jung, and Rollo May, especially regarding what each man had to say about creativity. Vince also introduced me to Denial of Death by Ernest Becker, a book that has shaped my thinking in so many ways.

3. Judith Heartsong. I can still remember the first time I contacted her by e-mail after finding her beautiful blog. Through the years she has inspired me to be more creative and to return to my roots in visual art, which I had abandoned on account of motherhood and work. Judi, thank you for showing me the way back to my art and for inspiring me with your beautiful artwork.

4. Beth of Beth's Front Porch, which is cheating because we were friends before we were bloggers, but this is a good excuse to tell her that I love her. Her life has recently changed: she has a brand new front porch and a brand new husband. And, after a long break, she's starting to blog again. Beth, you are my best friend.

These are the four people who have consistently commented on my entries and with whom I've contact other than blogging.

I am thankful every day for the interactions I have had and continue to have with Beth, Cynthia, Vince, and Judi. AOL may have treated its customers shabbily in the end by putting ads on the journals and then discontinuing journals as a service, but I wouldn't have met Cynthia, Vince, or Judi without AOL journals. I can't imagine life without them.

When I first started blogging, my creative life was sinking. I was too busy, too distracted by life and work, and I felt that part of myself was dying. Blogging helped me to find my way back. It made me more mindful. It helped me to explore my thoughts and my needs. And my blog continues to adapt to my needs. These four people have not only been with me the whole time, they have offered encouragement when it mattered most.

I release you...

One thing that started to bother me about my blog is that I started thinking too much about my readers.

Now, dear readers, I do love you. However, I began to worry too much about how I was dispensing information. I felt I had to present a coherent idea each time. And that began to put too much pressure on me.

I was afraid to be fragmentary or brief, for fear readers would roll their eyes and say, "She expects a comment on this?"

Therefore, I say to you, dear reader, I release you. I release you from all responsibility. You must not feel you have to comment on any of my entries. And if an entry looks esoteric, nonsensical, mediocre, tedious, or just too strange, just shrug your shoulders and go on.

I came to the conclusion that sometimes I might just want to jot down fragmentary thoughts or brief statements about what I did or saw that day. I came to this conclusion after reading Ianthe Brautigan's memoir of her father, Richard Brautigan. She reveals that Richard kept cryptic records about his days. Reading them, I was very touched. In a way, his short notes brought me closer to the man than lengthy autobiographical excursions would have. They also open me up, my mind, my heart. Hardly any adjectives, no sensory details. Just short, simple, declarative sentences. Elementary. True. Here are some examples:

Tuesday, September 2, 1975
My daughter and I talked about the FBI

Friday, September 19, 1975
I had a pleasant time with my daughter.

Friday, September 21, 1975
I had a long and very rewarding conversation with my daughter.

Friday, September 26, 1975
--We drove over to Bozeman to take my daughter to the dentist. She was in a very chatty mood.
--I went for a walk with my daughter down into the big fields, and I had a long talk with her.

Thursday, October 16, 1975
I bought a waffle iron for Ianthe, she's wanted one for a long time.

Saturday, October 25, 1975
Ianthe and I went into town and got some bulbs for planting. I want some daffodils in the spring.

The last two tug on me, in particular. It is touching to me that he bought his daughter the waffle iron. And it says something about his capacity for hope that he wanted to plant daffodil bulbs.

I am going to start posting some entries like this, and I'm going to see where the process takes me. It's an experiment. Maybe it will free my mind. I hope to discover some important truths this way.

Don't worry. You don't have to say anything at all. I release you. By releasing you, I am releasing myself.

This is one change I am making. I want to make more. More on that later.

The Wave (or Hamlet's doubts)

There is an excellent book called The Wave by Morton Rhue which explains how people can be seized by forces seemingly out of their control. Such a wave--a wave of doubt--seized me prior to writing my last entry, and I gave in to it. I have such doubts from time to time. As I look at the entry now, it seems like a cry in the wilderness more than anything.

I have never been good at keeping diaries or journals. I always give them up. This journal (blog) is the only personal reflection that I have been able to keep going. I have always quit them before. They start feeling too self-conscious, they start to feel like I'm telling lies, and I start to get a little tired of myself. I figure if I'm getting tired of myself, others must be getting tired of me. I wasn't sure I had it in me to take this project through a transformation. It seemed easier just to quit.

But my personal habits are so chaotic that perhaps this is the only forum that will allow me to keep any kind of record of my being at all (other than the stories that I write, which always come first). I should keep going. I am trying to build some confidence in myself that I have things worth saying. Maybe that will come to me in time.

I am already caught in the maelstrom of school. Tomorrow I must talk about the first act of Hamlet. So I guess I better go prepare.

Hamlet was a doubter. And look how he turned out.

Changes

Drama of Life and Death. Theresa Williams. Collage.

I look back at the person I was when I first started blogging and I feel she is very different from the person I am now. Once the blog fulfilled a need I had to figure out who I was artistically. I'd pushed a book out into the world but felt lost about my where to go next with my writing. I was full of doubts. I felt bogged down in my academic work. I was trying to find myself artistically and professionally.

Lately, I've been thinking about quitting the blog. I've been thinking I don't need it anymore. I'm starting to feel grounded in my writing life. My teaching excites me in ways it hasn't for a long time. I have more ideas for stories than I will ever be able to write in a lifetime. I've found out why I write and why I write about what I write about. Many of the friends I started out with in the blogging world have disappeared. Their interests, too, have changed, and they don't come here anymore. I feel a pulling away where I once felt a strong connection to others out there. This place is visited less all the time; the comments are sparse. It may be time for a change. That may mean it's time for me to quit.

On the other hand, I don't want to be a quitter. I need to sort through my feelings about all this.

If I stay, this blog will no doubt change from what it has been. It may become more an academic exploration of subjects I'm interested in, a beginning place for some things I'd like to flesh out. It may become more about my teaching, too, than it once was. I just don't know.

I'm staying for now. I'm thinking it over. I'm thinking out loud. I probably shouldn't mention it, really, but if I don't, then I'm perpetuating a sort of lie and holding it inside myself, and that has never been good for me.

Classes start on Monday. I have finished all three of my syllabi, and there are many new people who will come into my life once again. We will go on a voyage together and hopefully create bonds, and good memories.

I am going to California in September, to Big Sur, to teach workshops at Esalen again. It was overcast today, breezy. The humidity was low, the air crisp and cool. Such days make me feel alive.

I read an entire book this afternoon and evening, something I haven't done in a long time. I've been picking up books for weeks and only been able to tolerate them in short bursts. My thoughts slide away and I have to put the books aside. But I read Ianthe Brautigan's memoir straight through today. It is about how she dealt with the suicide death of her famous father, Richard Gary Brautigan. I ordered the book after doing a short review at a book group at Library Thing called books compared. Doing the review made me curious about Richard Brautigan again. I have always felt a strange connection to him, a connection I've welcomed but that has always made me a bit uneasy, too. Doing the review and reading Ianthe's book, You Can't Catch Death, makes me want to write about the connection I have with Brautigan as an attempt to understand it.

I've met some new friends at Library Thing. I even started a group over there called Art is Life. I've looked in on message boards and groups before and have been frankly appalled at what I saw: a lot of cruelty, sniping at each other, and worthless conversation. I've never seen a group I wanted to belong to. But people at Library Thing are more like I am, I feel. I am at home there.

I'm not quitting the blog yet. I haven't decided yet what to do. That is the truth.

Inspirational

How wonderful it is to be recognized by one's peers. Judi Heartsong has bestowed the "Inspirational Blogger Award" on this blog. These awards originate from Writer's Reviews . The idea is that now I get to recommend five blogs for this award. The bloggers I name may also recommend five bloggers each, if they wish.

Here are my recommendations:

See How We Almost Fly by Alison Luterman. I met Alison in 2005 at Esalen in Big Sur, California. We both taught workshops. Alison is an award winning poet and playwright. At her blog, you can get a good idea of the ups and downs of the writing life. Her blog is inspiring because it shows her endurance.

Schizophrenia: A Carer's Journal by Mike is a frank portrayal of the difficulty of having a son with schizophrenia. I especially appreciate Mike's honesty about the emotions involved, as well as the difficulties of dealing with "the system." Mike's blog is inspiring because it shows genuine hope in the face of so much heartache and trouble.

Talking to Myself by Judi. Such wonderful humor; she shows us now not to take life so seriously. But her blog is a good balance between humor and seriousness. This blog is an exceptionally good read. Judi's family has recently experienced a tragedy, so if you've not been there in a while, be sure to do so and wish her well. Judi's blog is inspiring because she has so much life and loves being her age (57).

In a Dark Time by Loren Webster. The title is taken from one of Theodore Roethke's poems. Loren explores poetry, history, and photography, among many other things. Here you can get criticism on poets you may have never heard of or a history lesson about the Indian Wars! Loren's blog is inspiring because he's retired from teaching but not from learning, not from life.

Erin's Everyday Thoughts. Erin is a student of mine from the late nineties at BGSU. It does happen sometimes that students become your friends. I'm lucky to count Erin among my small number of genuine friends. Erin's blog is inspiring because she shows how she tries to juggle her career with her writing aspirations.

Thank you Judi Heartsong for recognizing my blog.