Overthinking the Obvious

A funny thing happens when I step away from blogging for a while.

When I decide it's time to post again, I feel as though the new post has to be fabulous--good enough to make up for all those posts I didn't write. I begin to think I have to explain what I've been doing, what I've learned, what on earth could possibly have taken me away from the keyboard for all this time (more than two months, in this case). I want to be witty and charming and full of wisdom so that if you really do decide to read my post after all this time, you'll be delighted that I'm back. That's pressure!

And that phrase--"I'm back"--implies that I'll be posting regularly again, so now, in some part of my brain, I have added pressure to come up with a handful of topics for the immediate future and the discipline to address them in a timely fashion.

In other words, I've been overthinking it. I've started three different posts. But each one was burdened with too much information, too many competing goals, too many words.

So here's the simple truth. I've been busy, I've had a whole lot of other commitments, and I haven't been able to write. I have some stories to share with you, mostly about my delightful grandkids, of course, and I'll be back in this space again soon. Meanwhile I have enjoyed your posts on a fairly regular basis and it seems that, as the Beatles once said, "Life goes on."  Oh-bla-di bla-da.

Happy to be back.

Finding my voice: three years of blogging

Today marks the third anniversary of my blog--the "leather" anniversary, according to my friend Jayne, who celebrated hers last week.

This is a welcome time for an anniversary. I have been posting only every couple of weeks, and lately when I begin a draft it turns out to be about the weather. Granted, weather has been a worthy topic this summer, but my drafts weren't contributing to the discussion.

Checking my early posts, I found a bit of inspiration. Three years ago, I was writing without readers, hence without conversation. At least a few posts from back then are clamoring to be reintroduced, this time to a group of lovely people whose opinions and contributions I value greatly.

This blog has been an exercise in finding my own voice after a long career of writing in other people's voices. I wrote endlessly in the "institutional" voice on behalf of three colleges and universities. I wrote letters and speeches for college presidents, and a book in the voice of a long-time baseball player, and they all said I captured them well. But what about me?

Before I could start blogging, I had to persuade myself that I had something to share, and then I had to develop a writing style that conveyed what I wanted to say. I wanted to speak directly, from me to you, and before long I began to incorporate a bit of my casual conversational style. Briefly, I also tried out some of the sarcasm I enjoy when other folks do it, but I couldn't make it work for me. I learned to keep things short (sort of) and to write about more topics than just my grandchildren. I still work on my posts, but I no longer labor over them. Blogging feels much more comfortable now.

This summer, while recuperating from a broken leg, I was feeling that the best thing about blogging is reading others, not writing my own. But I think it's only fair to give back by writing and commenting, and I feel the energy returning. Thank you for everything that you share--ideas, comments, encouragement, wonderful bits of thought that make life richer.