Wednesday, March 06, 2013

Blog Clog And How Blogging Changes after 50

Every night when my head hits the pillow, I think about moments from my day that I'd like to record for "someday" when my organic memory is gone. There will come a time when I'll need to read about my days in order to enjoy those meaningful pauses in my life again. And maybe my grandchildren would enjoy the details, too.

But I hit a blogging snag a couple of years ago and just can't get past it.

I've fallen, and I can't get up.

It's a blog clog.

Every day, I start composing posts in my thoughts such as:

Once upon a time, there was a pregnant woman who had nowhere to go
and no one who cared about her and her twins, so we took her into our home.


I'm in the long, tender process of saying goodbye to my parents.


My child has had a child. I am a grandmother


Once upon a time, I had three children whom I mothered ... adequately.
Then they grew up and moved away. I miss their voices and faces so much
that it's hard to look at pictures of our family from those years. 

But I don't get past those initial thoughts. 

These are BIG topics to tackle, and emotions wash in and out like ocean waves. Some waves are gentle, some are scary, melancholy, or bubbly (like the pic on the left)--delightful. 

Forward and backward, forward and backward, one recedes, comes another. The waves always bring in little treasures and take away little treasures. Sometimes I raise my head to the horizon, but I always feel the waves lapping at my ankles and shins, reminding me that everything is changing right under me. I can feel it. 

So I'm going to write about the little treasures that flow in and flow out. Maybe if I narrow things down, I can approach them and put them down for someday. 

But today, all I can do is write generally about the flow and change. Sometimes I'm just speechless. And that is when there is nothing to do but let the waves wash over me. 


Mocha with Linda said...

If this is a snag, snag away! This is beautiful and so descriptive.

You have indeed had tons of waves in your life lately. Underneath that shifting sand, though, is the Rock on which you firmly stand upon.

Love you, my friend.

Skoots1moM said...

i find that MANoPAUSE is a myriad of waves, like you said some bubbly but many tsunamis that wash the moment away...sometimes never to return, especially in my memory.
I often feel i have nothing to write that anyone is going to want to read...but am continuing to try and capture snippets.

Robin @ Be Still and Know said...

Well said. I think for me the most surprising and most distressing part of the hormonal upheaval is how it impacts me emotionally, the physical symptoms are tiresome and unpleasant, but sometime I wonder WHO I am going to be when all this is said and done.

Praying we can all survive the hormonal storm and come out on the other side stronger, having gained some wisdom from the experience...


Joyce said...

I can relate to this on so many levels. It is beautifully said and I want to encourage you to write even it it feels like a jumble to you.

I always thought when I got to this point in life things would be less confusing. They're not. They're just a whole new level of confusing : )

How I wish my mother had written about this season of life when she was living it. I'd love to read it and think one day my girls will want to read about mine. My mom and I talk about it, but as with most seasons, once you get through them you remember more of the good than the bad, and nothing is quite as roller-coasterish as when you lived it. I am recording the roller coaster!

Your little grandgirl is so adorable...maybe start with that.

Karen said...

Right there with you. I'm going longer and longer between posts. I think I'm up to two weeks now, and like you, hoping it will pass.

Anonymous said...

This was some unclogging at its finest. What a lovely, descriptive, well-crafted essay.

Gaia said...

I am enjoying this post cos I am in the same rut, thus had gone MIA for some time, trying to get my head straight.

Thoughts come but go just as quickly. Before I could pen it, I've forgotten what had inspired me in the first place. :(