"And even when you've paid enough,
been put upon or been held up
with every single memory
with every single memory
of the good or bad faces of luck
don't lose any sleep tonight
I'm sure everything will end up alright
don't lose any sleep tonight
I'm sure everything will end up alright
You may win or lose,
but to be yourself is all that you can do"
I learned a new word the other day. In a comment on a David Bowie video on YouTube, someone suggested he was very successful for an intimist. It gave me a little pause for thought. When I first started blogging (before it was actually called "blogging", back when it was "online journaling" as if that somehow made it more elegant or less narcissistic), a large part of my motivation was about self-discovery and self-forgiveness. It's not that I wasn't writing it for an audience, but I certainly never intended nor envisioned a sizeable one. (And I've not been disappointed! :P) I was writing for me. I wrote because I needed to, more so than wanted to. It was therapeutic. It was cathartic. It was maturation.
Likewise, even with this, my most recent blog (The Tao of Patrick), when I (rarely) write, I'd never shared it on Facebook before my most recent post (though Liza-Ann often shares my posts on her timeline). I've seldom given much consideration for what audience I do, don't, could, or couldn't have because I've always thought that would impact the writing itself if it was in the back of my mind when I wrote, and would therefore 'pollute the purity' of the writing - if there really is such a thing. I struggle with the temporal nature of truth, seeing something I wrote long ago and which I now feel differently about. I struggle with the elegance or lack thereof in my writing, seeing something I wrote long ago and thinking now how poorly constructed it was. I never wanted to allow any additional 'impurities' I could avoid.
But then, "Fish can't live in pure water." ("Tao Te Ching", Lao Tzu.)
Am I an intimist then? Perhaps?
Nowadays when I write, while it may still be to sort confused ideas in an anxious head, more often than not it's just because I've reflected on something and come to a conclusion I feel worth sharing. I have some little nugget of "food for thought". It's my way of flexing my teaching muscle after so many years away from the classroom. When it comes to "teachable moments", there aren't many moments I don't considerable "teachable". I like to think it's one of my simultaneously charming-yet-annoying qualities.
But this intimist thing needs to change, I think, for reasons I won't get into here (yet). I need to take a little more air into my lungs, and speak a little louder and clearer. An emergence from an already thin shell, if you will.
I make no promises - never have when it comes to my writing - except in my policy regarding "whose secrets they are to tell" (i.e. I only tell my own). But I do hope that I am soon to usher in a new era with regards to my own self-expression. I'll be keeping this blog, not restarting again, as I've done twice before.
The winds of change are blowing.
March 2nd approaches. I'll be writing. I already know at least some of what I have to say.
Likewise, even with this, my most recent blog (The Tao of Patrick), when I (rarely) write, I'd never shared it on Facebook before my most recent post (though Liza-Ann often shares my posts on her timeline). I've seldom given much consideration for what audience I do, don't, could, or couldn't have because I've always thought that would impact the writing itself if it was in the back of my mind when I wrote, and would therefore 'pollute the purity' of the writing - if there really is such a thing. I struggle with the temporal nature of truth, seeing something I wrote long ago and which I now feel differently about. I struggle with the elegance or lack thereof in my writing, seeing something I wrote long ago and thinking now how poorly constructed it was. I never wanted to allow any additional 'impurities' I could avoid.
But then, "Fish can't live in pure water." ("Tao Te Ching", Lao Tzu.)
Am I an intimist then? Perhaps?
Nowadays when I write, while it may still be to sort confused ideas in an anxious head, more often than not it's just because I've reflected on something and come to a conclusion I feel worth sharing. I have some little nugget of "food for thought". It's my way of flexing my teaching muscle after so many years away from the classroom. When it comes to "teachable moments", there aren't many moments I don't considerable "teachable". I like to think it's one of my simultaneously charming-yet-annoying qualities.
But this intimist thing needs to change, I think, for reasons I won't get into here (yet). I need to take a little more air into my lungs, and speak a little louder and clearer. An emergence from an already thin shell, if you will.
I make no promises - never have when it comes to my writing - except in my policy regarding "whose secrets they are to tell" (i.e. I only tell my own). But I do hope that I am soon to usher in a new era with regards to my own self-expression. I'll be keeping this blog, not restarting again, as I've done twice before.
The winds of change are blowing.
March 2nd approaches. I'll be writing. I already know at least some of what I have to say.
