Where, how do you start? I hear Julie Andrews singing in my head… Start at the very beginning, it’s a very good place to start…
But which beginning? Doesn’t a beginning imply that something, somewhere must have come to an end?
And so what ended?
Good question. I stopped blogging because there was so much negativity swirling around. So much. A woman I barely know commenting on things on my blog—swiping at someone else, a friend of mine. This woman stirs hornets’ nests. I know because she has tried in my life, in my family.
Another friend…well, not really in the end, I guess, attacked me verbally about a post I made to the blog. A blog about Lee-Jackson Day. Now, I must say, I had been warned. Be careful, she’s a viper. But I try to see the best in everyone until the ugliness spills over like carelessly spilled paint. The colors fall together until only an ugly mud remains.
And a third friend, with whom I disagree politically, tagged someone on his Facebook page; someone he didn’t know. There are lines we don’t cross; lines we shouldn’t cross. In polite society, we don’t manipulate people, drag them places they don’t want to go.
And so, I retreated. Ended. Looked at the half empty glass, half an inch of water…
The winter left me reeling, so many endings: my job, friendships, writing outlets. I am at The Porches as winter surrenders to spring. The lush Virginia landscape explodes in purples and pinks. As I grieve for all that I have lost this winter, I replaced one sort of creativity with another. I planted a garden—that is thriving! I’ve made ice cream with my grand-daughter. And for outward appearances everything looked fine, save the lack of words. But half-empty leaves a hollow in the heart. Hollows that have always been filled with words.
John Prine is singing into my headphones…
That’s the way that the world gores ‘round
You’re up one day, the next you’re down
It’s a half an inch of water and you think you’re gonna drown
That’s the way that the world goes ‘round.
Good philosopher, John. Who am I to complain about lost friendships or jobs? I look around and I think, my god, twenty children in Connecticut, bombs in Boston, explosions in Texas, factory collapse in Bangladesh. Oklahoma. Ronan, god Ronan! It’s a half an inch of water and you think you’re gonna drown.
So, it’s time to pick myself up by my proverbial bootstraps and get on with it, and do what I do best: write. If you think you can use my blog to attack others, well that won’t end well for you. This blog, historically, has about a thousand readers and you will look foolish. And if you don’t like what I have to say, just don’t read. Simple, don’t read. Yes, that means you who thinks your gun “rights” trumps a child’s right to safely go to school, and you who thinks the south is going to rise again and that “Yankees” are from another country… We’re all Americans, deal with it! And you there on the fringes pretending to be holier than thou, I’ve got your number. Try being real. Y’all know who you are.
There. Now I will start that blogging thing again. I have three books in the works, look out world, I’m gonna do this thing. As I finish writing Bruce Springsteen sings one of my favorite songs ever…
I aint been to heaven,
but I been told the street up there are paved with gold
Keep your eye on the prize.
I love it when WGOD plays in my headphones.