A few months ago I was contemplating whether I wanted to start a blog. I love this blog community that I have stumbled into, and I felt like I wanted to participate in a fuller manner than only reading and sometimes commenting at other's blogs (though I love doing that). There was, I suppose, a desire in me to prove to myself that I was just as qualified to voice my inner thoughts in this way as any other person. Of course - at the same time I experienced the voice that tells me that I have nothing to say, and no ability to voice what few thoughts I might have worth writing about. This voice of shame has stifled many a valid expression of creativity in my life, while at the same time breeding unbalanced and secret dreams of greatness.
The only way I know right now to silence this voice of shame is to walk in what is real, one step at a time. I decided to try to start a blog, even though I had really no idea what my "voice" would be, and what I would have to talk about. I have not walked in the kind of public transparency about my past that many wonderful blogs that I admire and appreciate are known for, and I do not feel that I will be writing that way in this public forum. While I have absolutely loved many of the conversations about emergent churches and postmodernity that I have read in the last 1 1/2 years - I am not involved in any kind of professional "ministry" and have no desire to be involved in planting, growing, nurturing or maintaining a church or para-church organization, and I am not a spokesperson for any movement.
So while I didn't know exactly what I would write about, I did dream of having a cool-looking blog. I have dabbled in amateur graphics, and I used to be a computer programmer before I quit working to stay home with my first child 10 1/2 years ago, so I have been looking for an excuse to learn some web programming and graphics (though I still haven't had time to figure much out). So I started by looking for a picture that would inspire me, and that's how I found the lady.
The moment I saw that picture, I felt like she illustrated how I felt. She spoke to me. Pensive and introspective - what is she thinking about? Once grand and beautiful (different than me! :) ), time has weathered her, softened her edges, brought a patina of experiences felt but not fully revealed. And what's with the wreath of roses and flowers? Tattered and worn... tattered thoughts.
One step at a time...
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Chris - thanks for the comment. Like you, I don't really feel like I have anything of great importance to say in a blog but I do want to contribute. It seems somehow unfair to read and comment and not actually write something. So, I amble along and sometimes ramble and sometimes take breaks and try to give myself permission to just be myself. I've found a voice in the last 2 years and I thought blogging would be a good place to try it out. Someday soon I'll start. I love your lady. I wonder what she's thinking too.
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