Spiral Out, pt. I
What is the point of this? This right here, this page, this blog. For what reason does it exist? Does it have a purpose, or a meaning? If so, what is it?
Honestly, I don’t know what it’s purpose is, or if it has meaning. I don’t know if I’m right to be doing this–to be writing, making it public, and expecting… what? It feels necessary somehow, though. It feels important. Or, like it could be important.
Since late summer 2016, I’ve experienced that feeling of seeming importance more than once. I mean, I’ve experienced a lot of other feelings, too, and most weren’t nearly as pretty. But that feeling that something important was about to happen, or might happen, or damn it all, it could happen. That’s popped up a few times now.
Almost every time, the feeling was justified.
Reading a little white and red book about marketing; starting my own business; traveling here, and there, and there again; picking up the phone when my fingers wouldn’t stop trembling; all these moments (and more besides) were preceded by the shadow of importance. All these moments were followed by running headlong into the substance of that importance.
Starting a blog–starting to write, damn it–is the next moment in that sequence. This isn’t THE moment, this isn’t THE important thing. It’s the moment that precedes, he who comes before, a voice crying in the wilderness. The substance of importance has yet to resolve itself from the inky background of possibility.
So, for now, I will write. Hopefully a lot, and hopefully consistently. I’ll write about what feels worth writing about, what strikes me as of occasion, what makes me grin to myself and then immediately try to stifle that grin. If it makes me happy, if it makes me blue, if it makes me want to weep with joy, if it makes me want to rip my own memories right out of my head, I’ll write it.
In these posts, you’ll probably find (but in no way be limited to) categories such as:
- Navel Gazing
- And more…
My hope is to write things that help illuminate my own mind. If they can do that, I’ll be satisfied with the experiment.
I also hope that they help you (or the world around you) feel illuminated, or that they make you smile, or that they make you stare out the window for fifteen minutes. If they can do that, I’ll be happy with the whole attempt.
Thank you, and welcome.