To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
-From “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” T. S. Eliot, 1917
I’ve been wondering why I haven’t posted anything much here lately. Remember NaBloPoMo? A post EVERY DAY, for heaven’s sake.
There have been eminently practical, homely reasons: illness, work, lack of sleep. But I think the main reasons relate to blogging itself.
One factor in my lack of posts is all of your wonderful blogs. So much to read! So many thoughts arising, many of which must be shared in comments! Tangents to explore, links to follow. I’ve recently subscribed to a few new blogs, and so my reader is ever more full.
Also, through the magic of Google Alerts, I have discovered that this blog is on the blogrolls of several people whom I don’t recognize. (Lurkers: your time is up!) While of course it’s flattering to be blogrolled, and I don’t mind lurkers (though I prefer to read your thoughts in comments), it somehow feels a little odd. What about this blog attracted these people, some of whom seem to have little connection to the typical topics of this blog? Though I don’t often edit or choose topics simply based on what I think you all want to read, these discoveries have led to a few thoughts that have preempted any new posts: I have somehow become entangled in the online world of homeschoolers, even though I don’t homeschool — is this disingenuous of me? (The main commonality is interest in Waldorf methods, so I’m not a complete faker!) Would I be a better writer if I thought about my “audience” more? I guess I’ve come to believe that I have a stable set of readers — my “15 loyal readers” as I like to say — and finding that there are other readers out there has forced me to remember that this isn’t a private little social world. It’s public in many respects.
Another reason for not posting is a recent increase in my time spent on Facebook. I discovered two things there pertinent to this train of thought:
- A bunch of high school and even grade school friends have Facebook accounts, which somehow I just discovered. So there was a flurry of friendings and notes sent and photos perused. And I realized that I must have spent most of high school in a daze of some sort, off in a mental and emotional fairyland, because I just don’t remember a lot of that time. Even my mom remembers things that I don’t! Makes it hard to reminisce with people, and even harder to determine whether to solicit their friendship again — Were we really friends back then? Was I just a peripheral part of this or that group? Did we ever see each other outside the classroom? Am I just not able to remember how good of friends we were? I’ve only kept in reasonably good contact with two old friends, and for the others recently rediscovered, I had a hard time picturing them as adults, no less parents and responsible wage earners! So this has all led to a lot of mulling and pondering, none of which felt suitable or formed enough to write about here.
- Facebook has a function, new to me though probably not new in truth, called Notes. I discovered that this, in addition to the one-liner status updates, function like microblogging. Which given my lack of energy, time, etc. lately has been much more my speed. It seems a bit like Twitter, but with an unlimited message length, and I don’t have to learn a new interface.
So . . . time to get back on the wagon. Time to saddle up those mental horses again.
Did I just put the cart before the horse?