In Flogging for Blogging, Ms. Kitty delved into the meaning and worth of blogging.
I can't say enough. I could write a book. Which, to folks familiar with my blog, will come as no surprise.
And that's on the top 10 list of Great Things About Blogging. People are familiar with my blog. And they are familiar with me.
I spoke to someone last weekend about blogging pseudonymously. "Oh, I guess that's a good idea for a seminarian," the person said. Ehh ... well, that was originally why I began blogging under a pseudonym. Sporadically. Very.
And then ...
Well, those familiar with my blog know what happened next. The record screeched, and my foray into seminary abruptly came to a halt. And my entry into the world of Childhood Cancer began.
I've never been a dedicated journal-er. I was the person who started a new diary with great hopes and plans, and petered out after a few weeks.
Somehow, for some reason, the week after we entered the hospital, before we even left, I began blogging in earnest.
And never stopped.
Many of you have been with me from the beginning. You've seen me, through my words, cry. Rage. Deal with my baby daughter fighting cancer. Deal with my complete disillusion with life, my complete disengagement from any idea of pursuing ministry. Lose God. Go to utter dry ashes. And be born again, breathe life again, come back and say I think I'm going back to seminary. You watched me go back to seminary. Conservative seminary. Engage in normal life.
And you were here when cancer came back.
And again ... you were here when she completed treatment. Got clear scans. Went back to seminary. Again. Again. Again.
Blogging is not journaling, though I've been as open and blunt as I could ever been in a lock-and-key diary. Blogging is not a online bulletin board, though we've had conversations through its medium. Blogging is not essay writing, though I've done some of that, and been educated, moved, entranced, by those who incorporate that into their blog.
Blogging is introspection with an audience, but an audience who doesn't just watch, they call you on your bullshit, give you knowledge you don't possess, grieve with you, care for you.
I've met some of my friends that I've made through blogging and last week received two opportunities because of blogging. I've toured iMinister's church with her, sat in an airport for 4 hours with Peacebang and as a present for my 18th wedding anniversary, The Husband arranged for me to go visit my twin, Auspicious Jots.
What do people outside the blogging world think of us bloggers? Pajama-wearing hermits, making the only kind of connection we can, in an impersonal world?
Well ... I do like pajamas.
But I also have a very tight circle of best friends (who have probably found this blog, but love me enough to not mention it), a larger circle of good friends, and so forth and so on. This blog is in addition to "real friends," not a substitute. And it serves a different purpose. I love you guys, but I don't feel I have to protect you. If I get too raw, if my life is too painful, you can look away. You can not click on the headline. Not so the person sitting next to me in the hospital room.
I haven't yet done my Career Assessment Program, reason obvious. I'm hoping to get it done this summer or early Fall. I assume that there will be a question or two about how I've dealt, emotionally, with Little Warrior's cancer. How I've kept connected with my religion. How I've been fed, spiritually.
I hope the person I see is a blogger.
Because if you're not a blogger, I don't see how you can adequately understand what I mean when I answer: