After writing an entire post about the virtues of speaking one's mind, I realize I have nothing to say. I must have jinxed myself. I'm always doing that. I wrote about the joys of breastfeeding approximately three days before The Boss up and weaned herself. It often happens that I am driving down the street when it occurs to me that I haven't gotten a speeding ticket in quite some time. Two blocks later, blue and whites are inevitably flashing in my rear-view. Why do I even bother thinking, let along writing? Life would be a lot easier if I just flitted from activity to activity, oblivious to anything that isn't laid out in concrete certitude before me.
But, especially when it comes to writing, I'm more analytical than that. Not mathematically, but emotionally. I think things like why is anyone going to care how cute it is when The Boss throws her hands up in the air and does a rhythmic shoulder shrug every time Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" plays on my Sirius Satellite Radio? Or, on certain days, like The Boss's birthday or September 11, I wonder how I can possibly do justice to such loaded themes. So I don't even try. Then there are the times when I am fighting with The Partner and find myself unable to harnass the energy and creativity to write anything.
The reasons NOT to write are plenty, and they run through my head to this constant refrain: what makes you think you have anything of value to say, anyway? Who are you to show up every day on the Internet with a message that packages the same old inanity into a new box?
The only justification I can come up with is that it's not all about me. When I write, I try to make sure that my tales are not the "I, I, I" recaps of daily living that critics of blogging (especially "mommy" blogging) make them out to be. I want to address universal themes with a national--and sometimes regional--voice. A good voice. One that people can hum along to as they recognize the beat of their own lives. That's one of the things that makes me write, but it doesn't always help me figure out what to say.
So, to my four readers, I'm sorry for my week long absence from the Web, and for this stream-of-consciousness analysis of the act of writing with an inferiority complex. I will try to steer clear of such discussions about methodology for awhile, but they are cobwebs that needed to be cleaned out.
Here's to being witty and insightful, 24/7/365. It's not too late to start, is it?
P.S. Speaking of absences from the Web, I am happy to report that Redneck Mommy is back! Check her out. If you can go over there to get some hearty food-for-thought and a good chuckle, I will know that this post today hasn't been in vain. Welcome back, T!