I've frequently thought that I would be well served in embracing my identity as a writer if I were to post blog entries more frequently. Blogging regularly would be a means to more than one end. I'd be writing more than just a little poetry each day, therefore putting in the time with the scales and finger exercises that improves one's work. I'd be documenting my journey. And for those in my life who keep up not by seeing me or by Facebook (which I frequent only infrequently, after all), more regular posts would give them a way to stay up-to-date a bit.
I think the two primary reasons I feel discouraged about blogging are the thought that nothing I have to say is all that important and the feeling that there is already so much noise out there in the world - so many voices, beautiful and clumsy, on the internet and elsewhere, scrabbling to be heard. Do we really need one more? And that takes me right to an insecurity about my poetry, as well. Does the world really need one more mediocre poet?
The answer, perhaps, is that while no one is clamoring for a half-assed poet, what the world does need more of, what we all need, are people who are consciously living with integrity and compassion, speaking their truth "quietly and clearly" as the Desiderata prescribes. And I feel that writing is how I relate to the world most deeply, how I exist most fully. How I get to the best iteration of myself, as it were. It doesn't feed the hungry, and it may not feed the world, but it feeds and replenishes me, which gives me the energy to act kindly and generously to others.
There's my morning "thinking on screen," then. Happy Saturday.
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