Blogging is an inherently optimistic business. You toil, alone, cogitating and crafting, sending your efforts into a vast and unknown cyberspace for whatever future awaits. The whole undertaking is like the digital equivalent of trees falling in the woods. I subscribe to their audibility because what’s the alternative?
But what if the tree doesn’t fall? What if you’ve been putting “trees” out there for months and then one day you just don’t…and no one notices?
This was the philosophic vortex into which I tried not to be drawn recently as I skipped first one, and then a second, posting deadlines. The accountability is all self-imposed, of course, but across 16 months, in 130 installments, I’ve honored a promise I made to myself to write and post twice a week, every week.
And then, this week, I didn’t.
My energy is in motion, dynamic. Flux. In the morning’s wee hours, I find myself mentally drafting scripts instead of blogs. My psychic space is taken up with the stories I want to explore about curiosity and sound, with new vocabulary and technology and the incessant allure of social media.
I fretted a bit about abandoning the blog. I did. And then I didn’t. I back-dated a post, added this as a second, and called myself even. I am remembering to hold myself gently as I find my way forward, trees or not, falling or not, audible or not.