I have been writing my blog now for 9 months, (the same length of time it took, for each of my babies to be brought to life through my body) 72 posts in total to date. Nobody knows about this blog, apart from a few. My beloved Sister in Christ, who first set it up for me, willing me to express myself to the wider world, and not just share my thoughts, words and poetry with her alone. She didn’t want me to just write and keep my thoughts private in my diary, or on my static web site, which was where I first began to store my poems. She encouraged me to begin a WordPress blog, especially that I may not just share my poems with the rare person that I thought may appreciate them ……. or not ….. but to give my thoughts and words a little further exposure. She showed great faith in my writing.
The other people who know of it (but do not regularly follow it) are my dearest friends an author and her partner, who are my children’s Godmothers, the few people whose posts I have linked to, and any people who happen to pass by thanks to WordPress. I have refrained to date to tell anyone else about my blog. I wanted people to come because they wanted to come. I have so far warded off the urge to link it to my Facebook page. And although my children know I write a blog (from time to time I read them little bits) they haven’t ever seen it. Family beyond the household know nothing of it at all, and all other friends are completely unaware I have a WordPress blog although they know I enjoy writing. My immediate family listen at times to my poetry. I sometimes relay my latest thoughts about what I have written. But for the past 72 blog posts it has been pretty much an underground form of expression in an overground medium. A different, more creative medium to my usual diary writing. But ever still a turning out of what’s going on inside. Which I first began doing many many years ago in my diary.
I didn’t publicise the fact that I have a blog because I wanted the freedom of writing my Truth. (without consciously or subconsciously tailoring what I wrote, so as not to offend people, or dilute my words). Undistorted. I didn’t want to have people who knew me commenting just because they felt they ought too. I didn’t want my secular family to come up with the same ole “you make me laugh you do, the things you write about, your on planet mags, away with the faeries” etc, and more recently there’s the ‘God comments’ ….. which is the verbal unappreciative response that I usually get in person, in response to my Facebook entries, by those who are faithless but closest to me, therefore can not offend me.
The odd poem that I have dared to run past my secular family, is always met with a negative awkward response. My daddy was the romanticist, the poet, and since he has changed realms, my artistic ally within the family is in Truth a spiritual one. My Family never came to my 4oth poetry and photography exhibition, and although initially disappointed, I have to admit on my part there was a quiet relief. They have Loved me now for 41 years, but they never quite get where I am coming from. They have a great affection for me and embrace me fully, but they do not share my artistic or spiritual side. It makes for them an uncomfortableness, they are all so secular, down to earth and practical. I also recently get the odd comment now and then thrown in from the Mum’s at school ‘reference Facebook’. One wonders how deep or vast this undercurrent of thoughts on my comments go. I have always been rather oblivious to my foibles, occasionally I have been pulled up sharp by people’s outspoken reactions. Am I really that different? Or do I just voice what everyone else is thinking and is too self-conscious to say?
Anyhow so this blog was a kind of work in progress effort, a place to hold all my writings in one place, a place where I could share my poetry and idea’s. A place to share my thoughts in a world where sharing thoughts is avoided. A place of expression. A place of being allowed to be. In Truth without censorship, or restriction, or suppression. Another form of reaching out to touch God, that He may tangibly reach out and touch me back. God the Word. It is a place to unravel, and discover, and respond to life as each day unfolds. A kind of external unreal existence reflecting the inner existence of reality within and beyond. A recording of the reality beyond myself, but viewed from my perspective. One coloured by my journey, my faith, and the arts.
The stats could be completely and utterly disheartening for some. And sometimes for me so too they are. But sometimes a little magic manages to unfold itself, like a little flower slowly unfurling in the springtime. Closing again in the deepest eve, only to unfurl again by the morning dew. Sometimes the stats warm me, and encourage me, and inspire me, and sometimes the 0’s make me aware that I am to be humbled irrelevant, to less than a single speck of sand, or a single seed of grain. And then it’s just God and me. But I understand only too well, that even one single speck of grain falling on fertile land, may, God-Willing, grow good and strong. My poetry does appear to be being viewed, and the art/sculpture blogs always appear to be popular. And the rest, well they allow me to hear myself, and to focus on the parts of life which are important to me, that other wise might be lost and out of focus. Through my blog I get to share a little of my perspective with others, the vine tentatively growing.
Then every once in a blue moon, the devil of the zero stats bites.
But on most days I think being inspired by God, the Word, the Life, and the Way, is all I need to keep it perfect and real. Who knows, maybe one day together, God Willing, we might even give birth to new life.
And so just for now I don’t think I’ll change a thing!