A writer rambles … a little each day

by tamarjacobson

I have been doing a little blog housecleaning since I have had time on my hands. Having a summer cold virus does that for me – gives me time on my hands because it lays me up in bed, or languishing on the couch. So, I checked out links on my blog and deleted those that had become obsolete. In so doing I realized that many of my blogging friends have given up the ghost. It is easy to do. I get out of the habit of writing far too easily to honestly call myself a writer. But as with each label there are varying definitions for each of us is unique. But, honestly, I need to get back into the writing groove because I want to complete a book this year – perhaps before the year is out. And so, once again my blog will come to my rescue. I can practice with it – getting back into the writing groove I mean. I have often reflected on whether I should continue blogging. Very few people actually read it or comment any more, and Facebook type sites feel so much easier to work with – sharing stray thoughts and feelings like little "drive-by shootings." Writing causes me to go a little deeper into an idea or thought – and especially with emotions, for those are full of complexity including whether I am able to feel them at all. Being numb or distracted is often an easier way I have learned to deal with feelings. Defense mechanisms developed to help me survive childhood. The resilience of children, and look how we have all turned out!

Having my say – not towing the party line – throwing out different options for me or others to think about – playing with words – creating literary images – these are some of the skills I have reinforced and developed through my blog. And I return to its site again and again. So, I have clearly decided not to give up the ghost on blogging. In fact, I would say that I have pretty much been writing my memoir through these pages during the past eight years. My own personal e-book of sorts. Today as the fever has finally cleared and the raspy cough is dissapating, eyes cease their streaming, and sneezes disappear, I feel as if I am coming out of some kind of illness storm that took me by surprise. And as I reach out slowly into this bright, clear summer's day, I breathe deeply again, and write on.