Can you believe it was five years ago today that I started this blog?! I can't. So much has changed in those five years! In case you weren't a reader early on, or are just passing through today, I will tell you that I started the blog as a three-month countdown to my fiftieth birthday. I wasn't sure I could write every day for three months, yet here I am with five years of daily writing under my belt. I don't think my posts are always good, but the practice of daily writing is helpful to me, and I appreciate those of you who are faithful readers. I'm especially grateful that you've stuck with me through some of my more trying (and whiny) times, and that you've shared some joy with me too during these past five years. I seriously could not stop now even if I wanted to -- although there are some days when it's a pain in the ass.
Now, you may think I write a blog because I consider myself a great writer or because my life is so interesting that I think everyone needs to know about it. Both assumptions would be wrong. My life is interesting enough for me, in good and bad ways (mostly good), but I don't think it's like some kind of compelling reality show (if you're into that kind of thing). I have written a few posts I think truly are great, but those are the exception rather than the rule. When I've written those (and I'm thinking in particular now about "Letter to My Firstborn", among others) it's as if I went into an altered state where I wasn't writing it; the words just "felt my feeling" and flowed through my fingers. I don't know how else to explain it.
In the beginning, I used to share to Facebook a lot, but as I wrote and my life became (at times) more complicated and I was writing more often about personal things, I was happy to keep it anonymous. I know some of you know who I am, but more of you (maybe) don't. And I'm okay with that. I've probably said this before, but one of the best definitions I've ever read of any kind of writing/literature is that it taps into the human condition and lets us know we're not alone. In knowing that, we also know our feeling are similar to those felt by others, and our thoughts are shared with people we may never actually meet. (Of course, I paraphrased nearly all of that and I don't remember where I read it. I'm breaking my own rule of not giving credit where it's due.) I would like to think that, beyond my gaining writing practice, at some point I have made someone feel less alone. To be selfish (again), posting here has often kept me from feeling alone.
Thanks for riding the wave with me. If not for you, I probably would have stopped a long time ago. Think I can make it another five years?
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