The internet is an amazing, wonderful place. Or maybe a thing. Since it doesn’t actually have a location, per se, I guess it can’t actually be a place, can it?
But,
What I wanted to say was that I have been spending more and more time (1) reading blogs, and (2) exploring FaceBook. It’s actually getting scary. My kids are starting to act out or act up to get my attention whenever I look in the direction of the computer, but that seems to be a price I’m willing to pay (sorry, kids!) to get in some reading time.
We widders seem to have a curious inability to read for long periods of time; I haven’t been able to manage a whole novel since Willis died. Other stuff, the lovely short snippets from an intelligent woman’s blog, are ideal for engaging my mind and imagination (sorry kids!).
I’ve been following the exploits of the shepherding and fibre arts community- I love hearing about a lifestyle I covet (farming), without being remotely disciplined enough (or practical enough) to make such a lifestyle work. I also have issues around working hard, too, and I’m pretty sure that farming is hard work…
All this voyeurism of other peoples’ lives leaves me wondering what I AM good at, or maybe just what I AM. I’m not a writer, except in an absent-minded kind of way. The other things I dabble in, like sewing, or animals, or painting, or computers, or reading, or photography are all things that these women I’ve been reading or bumping into on-line delve into with passion and discipline and ability, and I just don’t measure up. Not that I need to (measure up, that is), you understand: I’m just about grown-up enough to avoid believing that my self-worth is reliant on my ability to be as good as, or better than, someone at something…
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Naw, it’s for sure: I do NOT measure my self-worth by comparing myself to others- afterall, there will always be greater and lesser folks than myself. I know, “fer sher”, that although I avoid dishes and housework, and embrace procrastination and tardiness, I AM good with MY kids, MY animals, MY Rob, MY grief, MY work. The one thing I have locked up, that I do better than anybody else does, is be me.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
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3 comments:
Sally,
...and that is all we can be--true to ourselves, content with who we are and hopeful
Marsha
I see blogs (and Facebook - that evil time-sucker) as a way to explore new things and ideas without the risk or expense of actually doing some of the things I read about myself. Newspapers and magazines function in the same way for me (and make me feel less guilty about the whole "not reading" thing). The search for who we are or what we might like to be is worthwhile in all its forms. I just am glad to be able to connect with such interesting and wonderful people this way.
I spend a lot of my little free time reading blogs, too. Reading other people's thoughts makes me feel connected and I really miss it when I can't keep up on what my chosen online community is doing - like during our week-long trip in November. And some of the people I've met through their blogs have become true friends; we celebrate each other's special events, talk on the phone, and someday hope to meet in person. On top of that, I really like to write; it's an outlet like nothing else in my life. My DH just doesn't get it....
I used to be a voracious reader; now I can't remember the last time I got to read a book cover to cover. Maybe it's not widowhood; maybe it's motherhood that halts our opportunities to sit and read for long periods of time. After all, the munchkins don't allow it when they are awake and around, and when they aren't around, we have to beat cheeks to get the things done that we can't accomplish when they ARE around. Sigh....
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