i, me, my...

I love it when I come to my blogging app & find an old blog that I never posted. That's what happened with my previous post. I am not currently at the coffee shop with Ben, but I was at the coffee shop with Ben, and I felt it blogworthy at the time, which is something special. Sometimes I feel self conscious about blogging. I never have been able to keep a journal before starting this online one, because I couldn't bear to go back & read what I had written. I was forever tearing out journal pages until one day I started over, here. I recently started a garden journal which is bound in such a way that if you tear out pages, the other pages start falling out, so I've taken to pasting pages together when I want to hide things- pretty brilliant, eh? Here on this blog I get a little insecure about the fact that I'm always talking about myself, how I feel about things & what not, like now, as I'm writing about how I feel about writing. I can't seem to break away from this writing about writing. It reminds me of this book we have called How to Read a Book. How do you read a book about how to read a book? The answer is, you don't. You hang in there until about 1/3 of the way through and then you make a conscious decision to stop reading said book. Anyway, I'm coming to peace with the fact that I may never stop writing about writing. It's really okay. If that's what keeps me going, I'm just going to go with it. But I do sympathize with those of you who receive these posts through email. I mean, only my dearest friends and family belong to that group, and you can't very well email me and ask me to stop or ask to be removed- sorry guys. But to my children who all love to write- maybe someday when you are stuck, you will find a friendly voice here, and I say to you, keep writing. Say something. Whatever is on your heart, put it on paper, on screen, or whatever, because those who love you want to know more about you, and those who don't know you, will wish they did when they are done. At least they will have had a glimpse of something real. So, now that we've got the preliminaries out of the way... on to the goods. This is always the way it happens, which is why I have learned to persevere. Sometimes I say some really silly things and I like that about myself. But what I like even more about that is the way that Ben and Daniel pick up on those ridiculous remarks and make known to me my own folly. You can't retract those things once they've slipped out. You can certainly keep them to yourself if you are quick enough, but what fun is that? There is something very freeing about laughing at oneself, and not needing to explain oneself, and knowing that you are loved even if you are very foolish. I think I should have liked to have been a fool if I had lived in medieval times. I can still be one today, but it just doesn't carry with it the same clout without the getup and garb and title. I think my biggest brag is that I once took an online quiz which qualified me as a traveling minstrel of ye olden days. I've sort of taken that on as my trademark I think. I'm sure I've blogged about it before. I realize that minstrels were musicians and I am not one, but I don't let that bother me. They also told stories and entertained & stuff. The best part is they were companions. They were endeared to those who accompanied them AND they got to travel. I'd much rather be a wandering fool than a situated master mind...though I admire both. That may be my folly, but you never know, it may also be my genius.