Why do I blog?
I have always enjoyed putting my thoughts on paper. At a very young age, journaling offered privacy in the middle of a large family. A space and a place I could call my own, where I did not have to share my thoughts, where I did not have to be part of "the collective". As a young woman, writing offered release from the solitude I often felt before meeting Bill.
I collected my journals and kept them private. Then one day, in our first little home, I sat in front of the woodstove and began burning. Bill came home from work to find me in tears - ripping pages out of my little books and tossing them into the fire and watching the fire melt each page. Patient man. He simply poured us some wine, and quietly sat next to me. When the fire consumed the last little page, he asked. I told him that these pages represented a life I no longer felt any connection to and my tears were not of sorrow but of happiness for I no longer felt lonely.
So it seemed only natural to start giving birth to the invisible grief inside me in a journal which just happened to be a leftover "black" book.
In my search for the "perfect poem" that could help process my tumultuous emotions, I came across Wordsworth's preface to "Lyrical Ballads". He defines poetry as ... "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility." Although poetry in this family is better left to my middle child, this statement quantifies and qualifies the contents of my journals "Grief / Memories / Hope". It also describes, for the most part, when I write for without tranquility, there is no reflection.
My three journals are private. These are not intended for an audience for now. They are the cornerstones of my blog which in turn may one day leave the digital world and return to paper. For now, I continue to offer my blog, trusting that most will take away something relevant. In Wordsworth's preface he also states ... "I had formed no very inaccurate estimate of the probable effect of those Poems: I flattered myself that they who should be pleased with them would read them with more than common pleasure: and, on the other hand, I was well aware, that by those who should dislike them, they would be read with more than common dislike. The result has differed from my expectation in this only, that a greater number have been pleased than I ventured to hope I should please."
Your private comments support ... that a greater number have been pleased than I ventured to hope I should please!
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