All day I’ve been thinking of blog ideas. I walked the dog and thought about using it as a metaphor for a blog. I can’t find two matching socks and I think that could be a blog. I read a chapter in a book and I think that could be a blog. Someone texts me “I love you” and I want to turn that into a blog.
As I’m jumping from one thing to the next, crossing things off of another damn list and showing up late for things like volleyball games and feeding the dog, all I can think about it where I’ll find enough life to write things that matter and how I’ll find the time to make the words pretty enough to justify appearing on a screen.
I don’t want to post small random things. I don’t want to try to make a silly story into a grand statement on what it all means. I get caught up in the dilemma of figuring out what’s important and what’s too mundane. And then I psych myself out of blogging at all. I mean, really… what do I have to say that’s never been said or thought by someone else before me?
That train of thought is toxic. And I’m stopping it now.
This week I’m writing. And I’m going to write about freaking everything. Some of it might stick, some of it might get posted and a bunch of it might end up disappearing with one click of the delete key. Yet, I’ll try. I need to tell you about my pilgrimage to Kyle Orton’s hometown. I want to tell why a guy can change the way I think. I want to share some things about life that I’m learning from a Scottish terrier. And I want to make it all look cooler on the screen with pictures and fonts and website magic.
We’ll get there, friends, but not if we’re afraid of starting or afraid of screwing everything up. What are you all up to? What kind of mundanity is filling your life and leaving you wondering what it’s all about?