My life has been bereft of indulgences and bathed in them at various times. I most certainly have been indulged and have indulged others. Sometimes it is just an expression of love or appreciation for another or sometimes it is just something you feel like doing for someone simply because it makes you feel good to do so.
This will be one of my indulgences; one that I am going to give to me simply because it feels good to do so. I am going to share it with you because that is also self-indulgent.
I have written for many, many years. I wrote poems and stories in high school and then didn’t write for a few years and then had children and took up writing again. At that point, I wrote a few stories for Redbook magazine and they actually published a few of them. I had a poem published in Reader’s Digest once about new babies. I have my original copies of nearly everything I ever wrote, but I recently discovered the box I had the published copies in, has been lost in one move or another or during a mad purge. It bothered me for a time, but really, who cares? I saw them. I enjoyed seeing my words in professional print and now I don’t care. I have all the newspaper articles I have had published, I think.
There were many years of writing poetry to clear my head, to celebrate something, to mourn someone and those are in my office. Most have not been read by anyone, but me. That is just fine. I wrote those things for me.
Then in May of 2011 I joined this writing group when it was being formed because Gary Smith kept showing me Elizabeth Grace posts. I loved her work. I wanted to know her and I wanted to write on her fun and sometimes challenging topics. I asked if I could join. She just let me! She didn’t know if I could write my name, but she let me in. I have enjoyed being in this group as much for the friendships as for the writing. I have met and formed real relationships with so many wonderful people and I am proud of the work we do. I am proud to be part of such a talented and amazingly diverse group of writers. One topic can bring out dozens of interpretations and I am often blown away by some of those. Reading blogs has definitely caused me to hone my skills. I am not the same writer who joined this group 2 years ago. I am not the same writer, but I am just an older version of the same person with more knowledge and experience. Thank you all for being such good examples to me. I appreciate and admire so many of you and to be honest, some of the less talented writers have some of the most unusual points of view and I have learned from them that a poorly written blog MIGHT carry weight on it’s idea, if not it’s skillfully crafted design. I have also learned I prefer to read a well edited and well thought out blog to one which is just thrown out there. But I read them all and I learn something from most. Thank you all, again.
I write for the same reasons today that took me to the typewriter and notepads way back in the 60’s. I write because my mind is a continuous jumble of thoughts and without a keyboard or a notepad, I would just get lost in my busy mind, my mind which wanders in all directions at any given moment. Focus comes to me by writing. Focus is what I lack without writing. I wander from one thing to another and if I need to figure something out, I need to write it down. If I have a story brewing, (IF?) no, when I have a story brewing in my mind, I must find paper or keyboard and get the idea or the first line or something down to clear my head. Writing is not a hobby for me; it is my mental health program. It keeps me semi-sane. That is the best I can hope to achieve. I am productive in my life because I write.
Now, what I want to indulge in here is this part: I have explained why I write and what I write about is as varied as when I write, I would love to know and would ask you to be brutally honest, why do you read me? Do you always read what I post? Do you only read when you post, as a return favor because you know I will read and likely comment on you? If you are not a blogger, will you please comment below as anonymous and then sign your name or initials so I can hear from you the answers to these questions? Friends and family, who read and never tell me that you have read, please tell me this time.
I have removed all filters to allow all comments…please do this for me.
I am here to learn from you and indulge myself in some self-examination as well as, some possible harsh criticism. I want the truth and I can handle the truth. So, indulge me, please?
Thanks in advance and I may not reply to the comments, I may just read and digest. We’ll see.