repost

Tidying up things online, and came across this little bit of a post I made a while back. It’s fitting, so I thought I’d repost it today.

Alan Jacobs has typed up a very worth reading article on blogs.

Sums my sentiments up precisely. Or close enough.

I think there is still the wonderful opportunity to find really intelligent, interesting, insightful people out there. They just aren’t generally the folks who make their living from blogging.

So, I disagree a bit with his final conclusion. I think a caveat should be added. The internet is a den of all the various vices, where each can be found and fostered and coddled. Each vice has its own favorite kind of website which may bring popularity but also destroys the soul. Blogging is where the vice of vainglory has made its home. “Look at me! Look at me!” can easily become the harsh, shrill call in each post.

That is when blogging becomes not about thought anymore but about something else. Dr. Jacobs encountered this vice in full and sees it as plaguing the entire medium. I don’t think it does.

For me at least I’ve had periods of flirting with it, and I think those are the worst seasons of anything I’ve written, both for me as a writer and for anyone reading. Now I just write because I enjoy it. I read other people who write because they enjoy it. I do that and find people who do not always share a great deal of information, but do have quite good thoughts.

Dr. Jacobs, methinks, needs to, like the Church, get away from the big voices and standard fare to listen to what those outside the spotlight have to say. Like in the Church, listening to those voices can often be a lot more fruitful than listening to what comes from the pulpits of the approved.

It’s fitting because I’ve realized writing has become about ‘something else’ for me these days. It has crept up on me in doing that, and so it took me a bit to realize that’s what’s happening, and why there’s a real lack of fluidity these days.

I’m writing and reading intensely for class work, but that’s not really the heart of the issue for me. More so, is the deep feeling like I’m tired of writing meaningless words. Words that aren’t read, or responded to. Of course, for most of my blogging life (which goes back to late 2003), I had hardly any readers, and mostly didn’t expect them. I wrote what I wanted to write, for the sake of the writing and exploration.

Now, that’s not filling my soul anymore, and I’m not sure what to do about it–or what it is exactly that has a to do about it. I think there’s a bit of discouragement, really, in writing. Holy Spirit is not a topic of interest, except for a small few.

The new book I finished last summer has been in the publishers office since then, but has been on hold since December.

The article I thought was getting published this Spring was not. “Next issue” apparently didn’t mean the next issue, but the next issue after the one next released. I’m encountering that depleting frustration of having utterly no correlation between what I do, what people affirm, and what finds fruition of some kind. I have no ability to gauge anything and find countless hours pouring into writing and texts without fruit to leave me now increasingly empty.

I know there’s a reality of faith and trust here. Only I don’t at all trust people, for the most part. I’ve been affirmed then cast aside to wander too many times.

I think I’m tired. I think I need some kind of practical encouragement that doesn’t just open the door for yet more draining.

I realize the gap between what I’m writing here, and what I wrote in the last post. Which is precisely why I’m bringing it up.

I’m tired of waving my hands, my words, my voice trying to find some communal interaction–and I know that my sense of self cannot come from the sorts of communal interaction that I apparently crave.

I’m not allowed, it seems, to be a part, but I’m not sure where I am supposed to be when I’m at the same time in the midst of almost constant busyness, noise, and word flurries.

I guess I lost my center in all this business. In the past this meant radical introversion to recenter. But, that’s not possible now.

So what is?

One thing I realize is that my musings are the fruit of quiet reflection. Sitting and letting my mind wander a bit, relax. Where we’ve been living for the past 5 months has been almost constant noise.

The apartment complex gates lock, there’s a pool in the middle surrounded by another gate, and two families feel this is enough to avoid any kind of parental supervision. The kids run around the complex, both floors, for several hours a day or more.

Often all day on weekends. Screaming, banging, playing. I don’t begrudge them the fun of playing outside… and yet, I’m pretty sure it’s impolite for parents to make the whole apartment complex take the burden of noise so as to let the parents, apparently, be gone for most of the day. Now that school is out, this looks to get worse.

Fortunately, we’re moving. In a month.

I suspect that is going to help a lot, and help in a lot of directions.

Til then, given my location in an urban place, without a car, and thus without a chance to get away from constant frenzy, I’m probably going to be gone a while longer from around here.

Check back when I get a chance, or if the kids go on a vacation.

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