A Wounded Heart (Or, the blog that wasn’t yet.)

For more than a while the idea for this blog has been kicking around in the back of my head. But, now that it comes to writing it, I’m not sure that I feel its going to be as good as I imagined.

So I’ll stall.

Yesterday, and early this morning led me to pondering what makes up beauty. My housemate and I, as well as, two friends went to Mission, B.C. and then down to Mt. Baker in Washington. We slept under the stars on a vista not far from the top. I awoke to a beautiful sunny day, and to the realizaion that we’d been sleeping in a location with a beautiful view of the snow covered mountains and of a lush valley.

Many different things can be called “beautiful”, and so, the question is what is essential to them all? What defines beauty?

I don’t think I have it all figured out, but I do think I’ve figured out at least a minimum requirement. And, I think that’s contentment. You see, the view I woke up to could have been improved. It could have had a clear blue lake, fed by a waterfall–which would have made it that much more spectacular. But, it didn’t. And, it didn’t need one. The mountains were beautiful in precisely the way they presented themselves. If they had been any different they wouldn’t have been those mountains.

Now, lest you get me wrong, beauty isn’t made up entirely of contentment. And, contentment doesn’t necessitate beauty. But, I think that contentment with whatever it is that is described as beautiful, is a necessary condition for beauty.

Sorry about how long this post is going to be… but I didn’t post last Sunday. So I feel like I owe you–which brings me to my second stall. Someone said to me recently “You don’t write anything personal on your blog, and sometimes I don’t get the point.” Well, assuming you read this “random person,” the reason I don’t write personal things is because I’m trying to avoid something.

You see, of recent–meaning the last year or so, I’ve been dealing with what is rightly called loneliness. In fact, its been since early high-school since I’ve felt lonely. I’d forgotten how it feels. And, how bad it is for me. The battle isn’t over yet. In fact, lonely isn’t the right word. “Alone” captures it more.

I won’t go into the details of why–but the truth is that if you’re reading this, chances are that I really like you. In fact, I can’t think of one person I’d rather have read this, than call me up or email me. You see–one of the problems with blogs is that they are is some sense the commodification of me. Commodification–the analogy isn’t perfect, but here is how I think this goes down. You role in here whenever you want at whatever time you want, read what I have to say, probably don’t post a comment, and roll out. We don’t dialogue. We don’t talk. You get a little dose of my thoughts, figure out where “I’m at”, and then leave like a phantom.

I don’t think that’s a good thing. Now–I know that some of you call me/email me and that for you people my blog is an additional supplement. You can’t get enough of me–I dig that. But, don’t let reading my blog be our primary source of interaction. I guarantee you that if you blog, I don’t read it, or if I do I post comments regularly. Have you ever wondered how technology de-humanizes people?

I’ve just told you how.

In a way, this space is me. But, at best it is a poor knock off. In part, because my thoughts are more polished when I write, but in part because once something shows up in this space I’ve already processed it. You are reading old news, so if you try and fire up a conversation about something here one of two things will happen. I’ll either regurgitate what is here, or I’ll be disinterested. In either case the conversation won’t be impressive.

Don’t get the impression I’m angry here. I want you to be interested in me. I like that you like my thoughts. I’m happy to give you a privileged view into my life, and to narrate that view. But the truth is, you calling me up or emailing me, would mean a whole lot to me–and it’d be good for me. Don’t do it right this second, but do it sometime.

At this point I just don’t have the emotional energy to write more. As I mentioned the original idea for this post has been coming for a long time, and in itself it is an emotional topic. Here is a teaser:

We’re all hurt by someone, at some point.

The question is, what do you do next?

drt.

A Long Time in Coming

Its been about a year since I last blogged, and in that year much has happened.

In many ways, I’ve changed as a person–I’m no longer who I was–and that is a good thing. But, in many ways am still exactly the same. Continuity is a funny thing. Some days I feel like I’m exactly the same as I was when I left high-school nine years ago. But other days I’m excited to be where I am, excited by the openness of the future. The unknown can be thrilling, as well as, petrifying.

It wouldn’t be right to try and re-count all that has happened in the last year–nor would it be interesting. For one of the things I’ve come to realize, is that as my reader you are likely someone who knows me. Maybe we knew each other long ago, or maybe we just saw one another. But regardless, my blog, and life, are not so captivating that as a total stranger you would stop and dwell here. I am under no illusions; this blog will not drastically alter anything; it will not be a profound contribution to internet literature and it will likely go unnoticed.

Anyways, if you hadn’t read my blog before–this is more or less as much of an invitation as you are going to get. I can’t promise explosions, gunfights, or an epic romance, because my life doesn’t contain those things yet. I hope my life will contain laughter and joy, and that those things will be found here also. This will be a place where I wonder, and puzzle. It is my expectation that life will continue to contain tears and sorrow for me, and so this space will too. Let us hope together that my story does not contain too much of any one of these things, otherwise it won’t be a good story–for me or for you.

d.r.t.