Wow! I first learned the joy of blogging on an on-line dating site a few months ago. I went onto the sight to explore dating options a year after my divorce and discovered another love interest instead...a medium for my writing. I since left the site, taking not a date but a new route of expression with me...the blog. So here I am amongst the blank page and type characters, breathing in a big sigh of relief (the kind of breath one inhales upon finding themself home! )
I don't know who is out there. I don't know who will read what I write, if anyone, but like all writers I write for the intended reader without ever fully being able to comprehend who they are. I may never know why they are skimming past my words rather than all the other writer's words they could be reading at that moment. I may never know what they look like, how they feel inside when they begin to read, how they feel inside after they read. I may never know if they have to strain to read my words or if my sentences slide into their grey matter with ease. I may never know if they are alone, if they have families, if they are single or married. I may never know their age or their background. And I may never know the circumstances of their lives, where they are at that exact moment they begin to read my words. What I do know, however, is that they don't know me. I am some stranger who is suddenly on their screen passing on my version of life as I see it. hmmm! What is the purpose of all this?
Simple really, I guess...human connection. I have something I want to give and maybe , just maybe there is someone out there in need of that something. I am not the best writer in the world...far, far from it...but I am a writer. Anyway you slice it and no matter how I try to escape that incessant calling by slipping into other ( much better paying) roles...I am a writer. So to the words I must surrender and do what I am meant to do (how is that for dramatic?) Maybe, just maybe,hidden in my words, there is something someone else out there needs. Maybe I am helping to make the world just a tiny bit smaller by connecting to someone. Heck, maybe I just write for the big fat ego reasons Tolle describes in his book... for reasons that take me further from peace rather than closer to it (I don't think so though). Or maybe I simply write for the sake of writing. Who knows?
So often I feel all this is bigger than me and I am just going along for the ride. I am afterall...just writing.
So here I am:
44year old fun loving divorcee seeking....a reader.
Dale-lyn
