I have a dream about writing a blog.
I am starting out my day with this blog entry and I am even going to publish it if it is a piece of shit. I have tried writing since the beginning of the year, and I have run up against so many barriers.
I lost some of my initial enthusiasm when I learned that blogging isn’t as “Plug and Play” as I thought it would here were many platforms to choose from, and like any internet research it can be hard to keep your moving in the right direction progress
some kind of barrier keeping me from publishing. I have written different pieces and they are there in the archives because there is
I am going to go crazy if I can’t get this party started. I spend so much time thinking of things I want to write about and I am not doing anything else that I need to do. I fell into a deep funk for a while when I couldn’t get my schedule to support what I wanted to do with my blog. I wanted to write at the same time everyday, and I wanted to support my spirit and write when the muse was upon me. Well, that didn’t work out that great because the time of day when I feel all moonstruck and want to write, is the same time that the kids all want to be noisy and have friends over.
I tried making myself write in the morning because it was quiet. But that is the time of day I always visit my social network. I get up in the morning and sit in front of the computer and I enjoyed my time on Facebook immensely. I actually did laugh right out loud more than once, many many times. So I made a rule that I could not go on Facebook until I had a handle on this . Well I grieved for my Facebook followers. I missed the support and attention they fed me when they liked my posts. I wasn’t able to replace the attention I got for my status posts with the new blog, and I also felt a high level of anxiety about “people” reading my crappy writing.
Yesterday two thinks happened for me. I realized that I had made many changes in my life aimed at getting this blog started. I have made internal adjustments, I have made external adjustments, and I have changed many things about my life, in the past five years, all aimed at fulfilling my dream of writing a blog.
My dream is to write as much as I want about as many different subjects as I want in whatever style I want until I have written every story inside me and shared them with the world. I have only just been kind to myself because I have also been working for years and years and years to be able to write at all. I have a learning disability in the area of personal expression, so I want to write about lots of exciting ideas, but I have a very hard time doing it. Getting thoughts on paper paper was once impossible for me. I have made new channels in my mind so that I can use the typewriter instead of a pen and paper I have studied and meditated and typed and changed my own little brain. I have changed my brain so I can write this blog. So let me write it I say.
So yesterday I learned that I have been building things towards an end and even if that end is still out of sight I can feel reassured because I am growing up from my beginnings.
I guess I will mature differently into a tree, since I did not grow from seed, but from a graft. Someday we will only see the new tree growing from my own strong trunk and roots but a new and different tree reaching towards the sky.
I always learn things differently. I mull things over in the hidden recesses of my mind and then they kind of wiggle up from the earth for me to find like night crawlers from the nether reaches of my thoughts.
I do not want to write from the ground. I want to write from the sky. I love to sit in the chambers of the wind and let the ideas travel through me. I need to transfer my joy from thinking into my joy from writing. I am so happpy that I have sat and done a little today. I hope I do more.
I think I want to tell you dear Linda Lou is that we have permission for lift off, the wormhole has been created, fourteen wizards have read the sacred scrolls
.Every blog post is a huge effort. I know this. Just do it so we can get stronger, like a bird learning to fly, not like riding an bicycle.
I need to have these new habits trained into my routine. So they are now part of my routine. I need to be respectful of this work because it is the work of my spirit. My spirit feels hurt when I do not get to write and follow my stories.
So many of the choices I have made to get this far were ” One of ” choices. I don’t have to make them again.
I can just keep progressing.
Experiencing mindfulness through WordPress.
My blog about being a Gestalt learner.
March 29, 2015
It was February 1997, and Robert Burchfield’s The New Fowler’s Modern English Usage had been out for three months. Just as the 1st and 2nd editions of the Dictionary of Modern English Usage came to be known as ‘Fowler’, The Economist asked itself whether the next edition would be known as ‘Burchfield’:
The 1926 Fowler is already a period piece, though no one has ever gone wrong by taking its advice. The same, no doubt, will in time be true of “Burchfield” – as, perhaps, by 2097 the publisher of its latest revision will dare to call it.
– The Economist 1 February 1997.
It turns out The Economist didn’t have to wait for 100 years to get an answer, and it is ‘No’.
Yesterday, the 4th edition of ‘Fowler’ was published: Fowler’s Dictionary of Modern English Usage, edited by Jeremy Butterfield. It seems that Fowler is still THE name when it comes to guides to modern English…
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I stumbled upon this 1884 title in my research for another post and figured I’d be remiss if I didn’t share it here. I don’t know much about the book’s author, Julian Sharman, other than that he’d also edited a collection of poetry by Mary Queen of Scots and a collection of John Heywood’s proverbs. And I’ll admit I’m not so much reviewing this thoroughly British book as I am admiring it as a curious artifact of its time.
Almost half a century into Queen Victoria’s reign, 1884 stands out as the year:
- the first fascicle of what would become the Oxford English Dictionary was published,
- the International Meridian Conference in Washington declared the Greenwich meridian the prime meridian, and
- a kooky rector mailed a stillborn baby to a member of Parliament as a “publicity stunt”
(none of which provide any relevant context for the book, unfortunately, but surely you…
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Take my son-in-law for instance. I gave him this money-off voucher for face cream or something – he’s got awful skin, dry as sandpaper – and he goes to the chemist or supermarket or wherever he shops, and when he uses it, the voucher that is, the woman behind the counter gives him another one because he spent over a certain amount of money on the face cream and other things – condoms, hopefully – and, obviously, he can’t believe his luck.
So he goes and buys another one, which is probably a good thing – like I said, he needs to paint his face in the stuff – but this time he doesn’t have enough stuff to use the voucher or to get another one – he has to spend over twenty quid or something like that – but, instead of ending it there and then or giving me…
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how can those people go to Mars and never come back? How can they be there everything behind and get in a rocketship and go to another planetand live out their life and be the first people to live and die on Mars?
How can I spend the rest of my life watching them do it? As fascinating as it is it’s also scary even just for those of us watching here on the ground