Well well well. Today marks 2 weeks of blogging. To most that doesn’t mean much, and I’m sure in a few months, it won’t to me either. But today, right now, it feels like an accomplishment. I’ve gotten over the initial hurdle of nerves and worry about putting myself out there. I feel like I’ve set a stride that’s comfortable but challenging. I don’t post if I have nothing to say. But try to take a few minutes everyday to just sit and think. Think if there is something that I’m going over that I could put down here, and if that would help free up my mind a little. Today, there is. There is this one thing I’m kind of hung up on.
How much is too much info? How personal can/should a post be?
I had lunch yesterday with a friend and I mentioned the blog to him. Like I have done to literally anyone who would listen to me these past 2 weeks. We started talking about how difficult it is to write about some personal experiences. And about how much bravery it takes to write about your life. At first, I thought, it doesn’t take that much. It’s not a big deal. Then I thought about how this populates to my Facebook account. While that’s a setting I have chosen, it does cause me to second guess somethings. I hesitate before writing and posting. The fear that people you know may read something very personal about you is, in fact, really scary. It’s not the strangers or the once-in-a-while glancers, but the people you are friends with, or even the people you see on occasion.
That leads to the next question that I’m surely over analyzing. How much bravery in the realm of blogging is an acceptable amount?
I certainly would never write something with the intentions of offending someone or to purposely make someone feel uncomfortable. But one of the primary purposes of a blog is to share your life with others. Not just the pretty surface stuff, but the tough stuff that can sometimes be ugly and heavy. The kind of stuff that maybe could help someone through a difficult time or situation. Or even sharing a particular story that could potentially connect you to someone who’s been through what you’re going through and offer insight.
I’ve had a post in the hopper now for a few days that I’ve been wanting to publish (I hate that term, it makes so unnecessarily official. But that’s what they call it). And every time I’ve looked at it and wanted to hit the button, I’ve hesitated. And I’ve gone back and forth on whether to post it or not. I worry that it’s too much. Too personal. As people and social media evolve things that were once taboo, are becoming the norm. Things that would once send a religious person straight to confession are commonplace and barely warrant acknowledgement.
So, here I am. Asking you. What’s your opinion on the matter? What are you comfortable writing and reading? I need some guidance.
“Writing is both a mask and unveiling” – E.B. White
I’m superstitious. I can’t help myself. As I get older it seems to be getting worse. The other day it was raining pretty hard and a co-worker asked to use my umbrella. This co-worker has been known to leave an umbrella open inside to let it dry. I don’t approve and have voiced that opinion. He tries to appeal to the logic of it, and I won’t have it. Anyway, I was nervous about him using it. It was a surgery day for my brother. I watched the door for him to come back in. He came back with it closed and I breathed a sigh of relief. He brought it back to my desk, and I forget exactly how it played out but I thought he was going to open it to dry. I just about came out of my skin. I yelled at him a little bit. “Are you crazy?!? JJ is in surgery! Don’t you dare open that in here!” Did I overreact? Possibly. JJ’s procedure went fine. Had the umbrella been opened indoors, would it have changed anything? Who knows… I do. Of course it wouldn’t have. But my feeling is generally – let’s not take any chances.
And when it comes to the NFL season, it is even more prevalent. I’m a Cincinnati Bengals fan. There, I said it. I love ’em. Can’t get enough of Marvin Lewis and the whole gang. I have done the organization a great disservice this season. You see, I have drank coffee out of the same bengals mug every Saturday since my husband bought it for me 4 seasons ago (side note, the bengals season has gotten better since then) A few weeks ago, when the accident happened it really screwed up my coffee drinking schedule. I wasn’t able to drink out of the mug for a few Saturdays, resulting in a couple of loss’s. So, to the entire Bengals organization. I’m sorry.
I also wear bengals attire on Sunday’s. but, weeks like this pose a dilemma. The Bengals play on Monday night. What’s a super superstitious gal to do? I went with my gut. I drank out of the mug yesterday, wearing a bengals t-shirt today and will wear my jersey tomorrow. It’s the only logical thing to do.
“Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere” – Albert Einstein.
It’s been a month. One month today since the accident.
When I got the call that my brother had been in an accident. I immediately left for the hospital. It was the simultaneously the slowest and quickest drive there has ever been. I arrived, and found my way to the ICU floor. I was met by 2 nurses, later they said they knew who I was by the look on my face. They sat me down and explained the situation. It was bad, labeled as critical and life flight was used. I excused myself and waited for other family members to arrive. Later on, while at the ICU door waiting to get buzzed in, someone came up next to me. They had a loved one that had been in the ICU for a few days. I was looking down at the floor and then I heard them say “The floor here reminds me of the yellow brick road. Ya know, from the ‘Wizard of Oz?'” That’s my favorite movie. From that moment on, I thought about the similarities between the movie and the situation that we were in.
I was the Scarecrow. Asking for a brain to figure everything out. Trying to learn the medical terms, which monitors meant what, blood pressures, oxygenation, medications.
I was the Lion. Asking for courage. Courage to be strong when others couldn’t be. Courage to help my brother with the unknown. Courage to believe that everything is going to be just fine.
I was not the Tin Man. My favorite quote from the movie is “hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable” My heart has felt more this past month than perhaps my whole life combined. It has been broken, mended, but mostly filled will love and gratitude.
And then there’s my brother, J.J.. Unfortunately for him, he is a girl in this analogy. He’s Dorothy. Wanting desperately to find his way home. He’ll be there soon.
“You’ve always had the power my dear, you just had to learn it for yourself”