{{blush}}

as i sit here eating a leftover birthday cupcake (work procrast) and drinking a pot of green peony, i’m feeling a little empty in the writing department. i am wondering what to write today. i mean, what do i really want to say? need to say? hope to say?

like many writers, i write to figure things out, to understand who i am and how i feel. i also love to tell a good story. of course, i also am writing in a very public forum, so i am always wondering what you want to hear, what you’ll like, what will bore you to tears, and what oh what do i really need to tell the potential whole dang world?

i guess, this is why i do today is pretty. it gives me the same result without having to really sort through the mental muck of every day. the muck of my insides. weeding through, seeking and searching for the gem. there are gems every day, you know—mental and physical ones? some of them are just fine being mine only though. you know what i mean, right? some things just don’t need to be shared to be celebrated. or they can be shared small—with your husband, with your kids, over the phone with your best friend, one on one. that doesn’t mean i don’t share personal things here. hello? i share many personal things. it’s just if a situation doesn’t lend itself to being told: doesn’t build my personal understanding or self-knowledge, doesn’t hope to lend to yours, and/or doesn’t make for good story, then why? why put it here?

so today, i guess you get my barf of the page version of why i write a blog. even though i still don’t really know why. i mean, everything changed when i stopped getting paid to write it. my paycheck used to be my purpose. now i make more decisions, consider each post more, wonder about a subject’s value. now i think i’m writing this blog in sheer hopefulness. the hope to connect, hope to give something good, hope to make you feel something, hope that i’ll get to look back and remember and see my own growth, and hope that i will leave a smidgen of a mark somewhere out there. and that that smidgen will be a good one.

god, this is embarrassing. blogging is kind of frickin’ embarrassing, that’s what it is. did you know that? maybe it’s not for everyone, but it is for me. sometimes i curl my toes up when i hit “publish.” it’s like when i used to take my first draft to my fiction workshop in grad school. i used to pinch my thigh really hard under the table while i read (i did this when i spoke in therapy too). if they loved it, the worry and embarrassment was worth it. if they sat quiet, i would vow to never write another word. to spare the world from reading another ounce of my awfulness. unfortunately, that didn’t last long. i mean, fortunately. the drive to get the next good fix always lingered. and sometimes i even remember you don’t hit the mark every time. and that that’s not even the point.

{curling toes now}

:: inspiring happy
the noticing project (via eddy & edwina)

:: watching & reading
the totally rad presidential race • this post • this post • and this post