An Atypical Valentine's Day Post

The problem with my blog.

Okay, perhaps I should address the good before delving into the problem. I like my blog. This is my space to record significant events – some more significant than others (like a Medevac verses making an octopus craft for CJ’s preschool). I love to have a place that I can re-read these events. I have a terrible memory. Really terrible. And sometimes I go back and read what I wrote three years ago, and it’s like turning on a light in a forgotten room and suddenly seeing everything for the first time again.

Now to the problem. 

I am a self-editor. A brutal self-editor. I edit before I write. I edit while I write. If my blog entry starts as a whiny post where I complain about something or someone in my life, I edit those first few sentences again and again until I’ve worked myself out of whiny or doubt or just plain crazy. I hate those voices in my head that are whiny and tell me I’m no good – so why in the world would I breathe life into those words by giving them an ink-body to live in? Right? Then in my self-editor mode my entries resurrect into “everything is okay” and even “I have so much to be grateful for.” Which is true. But perhaps it is an edited-truth. A hoped-for truth.

I’m pretty sure that the only people who read my blog (or will read my blog) are me and my family…and a few dear friends who put up with me no matter what – those that know perfectly well how unperfect and ungrateful and selfish I can be. So for them (and myself) I try, really try, to put forth something worthwhile…and when I’m at my best, maybe even worthy of invoking emotion (other than boredom).

I believe in the power of words. They heal (for a reader) and they are the vehicle to healing (for a writer). I believe in the heading I’ve had at the top of my blog since I started it. Stories can make the world (even if only my own small world) new again. But perhaps I’ve missed out on the power of truth unedited. The power of seeing where I’ve been, honestly, if only for a few dark, uncertain, or unclear moments.

    

So I’d like to start an experiment. I will try once a month (baby steps – I’m only writing about once a week anyway) to write what I’m really feeling or thinking and not allow myself to edit. The last time I tried this was a mother’s day post which wreaked havoc on the relationship with my oldest child and spawned a “repentance” type post.

Today here are the words that touched me and filled me with awe and understanding and light. It’s Valentine’s Day and I found a passage in Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (okay – who am I kidding? – I totally googled “love quotes,” but at least I have read the book…twice). “Love is a great beautifier.” It is, isn’t it? And even better, my friend Jess (mother of three), posted this on facebook (and I NEVER want to forget it): “I look at the footwear lined up by the door (ala thrown haphazardly willy nilly everywhere) and think, ‘My whole world fits into four pairs of shoes.’ I could not love them more.”

I wonder how much Louisa May Alcott or Jess edited their truths before publishing them for the world to read? I guess it doesn’t matter. Because both sets of words make my soul sigh with a kind of lovely ache. Their words make me hope that I have loved enough, and that I have recognized the beauty of the love I’ve experienced. 

Tomorrow I will probably post something cheerful and bright (and heavily edited) about our Valentine's Day celebration (with pictures of my homemade chocolate brownies with raspberry sauce). Until then, these truthful words, by a renowned author and a dear friend, are enough.