The Glorious Blogosphere

I’ve been watching the blogs. Some I actually read. I have been looking for a new blog home for over a year, since my original blog, and to date, the only one that was even remotely satisfying, went belly up.  It’s still there. I even went back. But the host site didn’t tune into the burgeoning environment and something much less desirable for so many has overtaken our small community and many have left in search of a more hospitable atmosphere.

We had there a group of people from all over who found each other. A writers/bloggers/vloggers group who participated in conversations spawned by one video or blog or comment inspiring another to engage. Many of us became good friends in spite of the troubles and have remained in contact elsewhere in the blogosphere. We regaled each other with humor, support, advice, feedback and friendship. Many of us were by nature, observers.

That’s one of the things that makes blogging so delicious. Those of us who prefer to stand back, can jump in, converse, contribute when we feel so inspired, and then step back and allow the conversation to continue from a distance. I can, for example, read a blog or watch a video at 2:00 a.m., comment and go do something else. I always return with enthusiasm to see if my comments had been addressed or what others had contributed. Long distance friendship is much more accommodating to reticent communicators than phones or lunch dates.

Participating in a conversation via a blog is like texting or calling when you know the recipient of your intended blathering won’t be near enough to the phone to interrupt your busy day with *gasp* a conversation. Which, incidentally, is like being caught in the undertow when a live and breathing being answers in place of the expected recording of Mae West or Elvis requesting that you leave a message. I always lose my train of thought. I have actually had people think there was no one on the line and hang up before I gathered my wandering senses enough to respond. It has been suggested that the difference between my ability to form a coherent thought when I’m expecting a machine and my ability to communicate via a key board is akin to the great abyss.

Speaking of which, I found this in my perusing for some worthwhile, or at least entertaining blogs to read:
“The Church of the Great Abyss was founded by our Mother Tiamat at 9.00 pm on the 26th. of October (according to the Rev. James Lightfoot, a notable Hebraist) in the year 4004 BC (if you accept the calculations of Bishop Ussher).”

Who knew? While I wasn’t particularly inspired to read more about “The Church” I did put some thought to “the year 4004 BC”. You never know what will ignite your imagination. I ended up spending an inordinate amount of time reading about the cultivation of rice in Southeast Asia and maize in Mexico, the wheel and Mesopotamia and particularly interesting to this blogger, the earliest writing systems, Sumerian cuneiform and Vinca Symbols. (Although many contend the Vinca symbols, while conveying messages weren’t REALLY writing because they didn’t actually encode language. After all these millennia, the devil is still in the details.

 Isn’t the blogosphere glorious?

Wish Granted

Jack of all trades, master of none. I wonder if this is a phenomena of recent history. An inclination to dabble in this, tip toe in that. Small bits of exposure to lots of interests in an adhd kind of way rather than focusing in and becoming proficient at one thing.

I see it everywhere. Over the years, I have worked with people with this affliction and been guilty of this very thing myself. I’ll do this and on the side, I’ll do that. A wee bit of exposure here, a bit of beginner’s luck there.

I worked with a woman many years ago who by any standard was one of the most intelligent people I had ever met. It was hard for her to make idle conversation with people because she was so much more intelligent than most that she just didn’t communicate well with, well, normal people.

She was constantly looking for something fulfilling in her life. She was just always a step away from finding whatever it was that she needed. Like me, she was a hairdresser with more education than she needed for the job. Like me, she had about a million hobbies. Unlike me, she had not decided what it was she wanted to do when she grew up. She enjoyed being a designer. She thrived on the creative aspect of the job, and to be truly successful in this industry, as many others, the business end of it is an often ignored but vital part of the plan. That was thrilling to her too. Planning out how she was going to reach her goals, planning promotions, ongoing education, all filled her with enthusiasm.

The problem was, she kept missing one vital component for her to feel successful. So she would keep looking. She tried every new gadget that came on the market. She tried selling her hobbies. She was, in the 3 years we worked together, a part-time photographer, free-lance writer, jewelry maker, painter, sculptor, ceramics, glass and porcelain –er, a tarot card reader, liquor store attendant and seamstress.  She also loved to cook and bake, but during the time I knew her, she had not tried making money at either of those. AND, whatever she was doing, she was talking about one of the other things.

The poor gal had an extremely difficult time making ends meet because she never made quite enough money. I suggested once that she do her own Tarot card reading and see what it said. She said that it wouldn’t work that way but tried it anyway. When I asked her about the result, she said, “It didn’t work that way.” I suspect it worked just about as well as all of her other schemes.

I was a bit like her at one time. I had to do extra on the side until I built up my skill set and clientele’ but I tried to always keep my mind on the goal. One job, five or 6 days a week, with time enough for my family and doing other things I enjoy. It took a while but I did it.

My supposition that whatever I was focused on was what I would be successful at turned out to be fairly accurate. When I kept my eye on the goal, planned and worked toward certain outcomes, I had a much better chance of accomplishing a thing or three. Whatever was forefront in my mind, and this is still true, is where I manage to move forward, make headway. Some suggest it’s the law of attraction. That whatever I put out into the universe, the universe will go to work fulfilling my desires. I call it hard work. After all, the universe isn’t going to give me anything I don’t deserve.

Un Abrazo

I love birthdays. All birthdays. Mine, yours, theirs. Doesn’t matter. Birthdays make me smile. I know a lot of people who find no joy in them at all. They see them as reminders of being older than they were yesterday. Opportunities to recount all the goals they didn’t achieve the previous year; all the things they didn’t do, didn’t accomplish, didn’t improve upon.

Not me. Where others’ birthdays are concerned, they give me the opportunity to celebrate their presence in my life. And while I should do it all year, birthdays single out a day for me to remind them how much they are loved, respected and valued. It’s a day set aside just for the sole purpose of celebration and gratitude. A day for me to say Thank you for making my world a better place; Thank you for being who you are; Thank you for who I am when I am with you.

As for my own, my birthday represents how far I’ve come. It’s a reminder of how joyful and purposeful life can be and that I only need choose a joyful and purposeful path to make it so. It reminds me that life is abundant, generous, lovely. My birthday reminds me that success is achievable, miracles are probable, happiness is a choice. It reminds me that I am better today than yesterday and growth and greatness, however personal, are possible. It reminds me that while my successes are fortuitous, they are not random.

There are those who wish people would ignore their birthdays with them. Leave it alone. To that I say, please forgive me, but I cannot. Because, you see, I need you to know how you have affected me. I need you to know that you are important, special, loved.

So, when I say to you, Happy Birthday, especially those of you who do not love your birthdays, consider yourself hugged and know that I say it with a most grateful heart for all you are and have been to me.

I will be 49 in a moment. What a year 48 has been. Many more delightful surprises than calamities. I fully expect my 49th year to be even better.

I am seldom disappointed.