Why?

When blogging came into vogue I wondered if I should hop on the bandwagon. I’m a writer by trade so it’s obviously something I enjoy immensely, but I wondered if I had anything worthwhile to say (the jury’s still out on that). Recently I’ve found that it’s become more of a therapeutic tool for me than anything else. Writing has always helped me work through important events in my life and it’s far and away my preferred mode of communication.

I’ve kept a journal of sorts since I was about 17, but haven’t updated it with nearly the kind of frequency I used to. Thanks to that, events from 10, 20 years ago remain fresh in my mind and reading about them is a fascinating exercise. I know where the story is going but it’s as if it’s happening to someone else. I wince when I’m about to do something colossally stupid. I find myself moved by certain events, saddened by others and sometimes I laugh out loud.

I guess the blog is an extension of the journal but there is an important difference – it’s public. I don’t make any attempt to hide my identity as so many bloggers do, so anyone can google me and find it. It’s OK if that’s how you found it – c’mon we all do it! Anyone who says they don’t is full of it. If that’s how you got here and we were acquainted once, but not anymore, then welcome!

I tell stories from my past and while I don’t name anyone explicitly those in the know can put two and two together. It’s become more of a random collection of thoughts than something with an explicit purpose. I don't have an agenda. Sometimes I don’t update it for months and then I have an intense burst of creative thought. Usually when something is weighing on my mind I can release it by writing about it. I always feel better, more at peace.

It’s a tool for reflection as well. I don’t really write about the present day because it hasn’t been “processed” yet, while events from my past are ripe for re-evaluation or reflection. A recurring theme lately has been the fact that this year is the 20th anniversary of a number of milestones in my life. Some may prefer just to let the past stay buried, but I can’t for whatever reason. I like to analyze who I was then, how I behaved, why I made certain choices. It might sound like a torturous exercise, and it can be, but this is who I am.

I have to acknowledge (and at least I admit this) there’s a certain hubris that comes with blogging. You’re assuming people give a shit what you have to say. I know some of my friends read this when the spirit moves them (or I remind them!) but you’re essentially saying, “I have something to say and I want the world to know.” Maybe not quite that dramatic, but you get my meaning. Maybe because the Internet is supposed to be infinite and timeless it’s a way of leaving our stamp on the world.

I guess what I’m saying is that it’s more for me than for you, but if something I say amuses you, touches you, makes you think, or evokes something, anything, then that’s an added benefit.