Do as much as possible, and talk of yourself as little as possible.
Sallust
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Dive in, the water's fine.
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What I don't understand is why I have no time. I'm a retired, senior citizen, I have no pets to take care of, no family to visit and nothing much to do. Why don't I have the time to do it? If one were to describe my life he would say "Aw, he just sits around all day reading, napping and tinkering with his computer." So where do the hours go.
I make an entry in my journal every day. In this age of twitter, facebook, bebo, blackberries, blueberries, strawberries, elderberries, my space, your space, my tube your tube and the other guy's tube, journal keepers seem to be way behind in the human race and blogging is an anachronism, slightly better than snail mail.
Considering the vast amount of communication going on in the world, millions of items being tossed back and forth, all bouncing off the satellites as they slowly drift along avoiding space junk, bloggers are a small sub group of humans who read each other's journals, But sitting down to write one is a solitaire game. The only things answering me right back are my own words and I hold all the cards.
But everyone's life is a metaphor for living if it is examined well and it's a library of wisdom to share with those interested enough to look and listen. Everyone's life is a journey, as one of my blogger friends put it recently, a journey that is still progressing. It has reached its destinations, but one destination leads to another.
My life has been a vagabond's journey and I draw from it experiences useful to illustrate and clarify some part of the metaphor. There isn't much in that journey to brag about except to say that I spent most of my life, as troublesome as it was, doing the work I love.
I read other journals, many more than I comment on, and in them I read about the great, infinite examples of human life in its various forms. What I try to give back, I hope, in my shuffling manner, is a continuing appreciation and respect for life.
I will go on doing that in my anachronistic journal. If I can find the time.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
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Don;t read everything you believe.
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7 comments:
My Darling DB,
Fate would have it that after weeks of not reading blogs, I opened yours today. I truly regret not keeping up. I think of you and a few of the "others" (those people I consider as virtual, would be, maybe, real friends)with much love and wonder.I too understand the solitary line dancing! No matter what life brings us I will always remain a fan and admirer. Hugs and concern- Dannelle
Yes, the blogger might have become an anachronism already, but I think it boils down to the same old thing, you have to give to get. And that remains the same year after year. I used to think in college that if I failed to get into the unique circle of writers who made a living at it, I would be a failed writer, but I also think that writers have always played the role of tribal historian, and if a bunch of tribal historians go off to themselves, what will they be recording, not the behavior of the main stream who are just ordinary people. I found you are a lot less apt to become rich and famous if you study your tribe of ordinary people, the tribe you were born into, expanding to the territory around you. But this bunch of people you might be able to help if you study them your whole life, their history, and record it. They are not as apt to reward you as well, but without the help of the tribal historians, ordinary people are more apt to remain clueless and leaderless. Your entries always promote some thought. I hope some of my instinctive response makes sense. Gerry
Somehow, I think that blogging will not go the way of some other forms of communication. Twitter is to concise and limiting, even though the younger generation seems to like it. The statistics indicate that as we age, we look for more substance, and the ability to share virtual lives via blogs, in my opinion, will not disappear. I think as the novelty of some of the other technologies wans, we will see blogging become more stable :o)
I don't know what anachronistic means and I'm far to busy reading blogs and taking naps to look it up. (a.k.a. Ken...I like Twitter so I guess I defy the statistic)
We've discussed this in emails...while I enjoy Facebook, and I'm dipping my toe in the Twitter pool, I don't see myself stopping my blog. So much more can be conveyed there than in the limited confines of FB and Twitter. You keep writing, I'll keep reading! Hugs, Beth
I wanted you know to know I read this ... I have an opinion, but it won't come out.
Which I think, is a result of the techno-communication glut you mentioned. You need a prescence on all the different platforms, but you aren't all anywhere at once.
Not only do we not know who we are talking with, we barely know ourselves.
Shoot, it wasn't that long ago (was it?) that I remember yelling,
"We've got mail" when the mailman came. At Christmas time he would actually come more than once a day. The wonderful letters that our presidents and first ladies wrote are no more. I doubt that an email from the first lady, president, etc. compares to the letters and vernacular of just a few years ago Anne
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