On Blogging and Bad Letter Writing

I have not written here for quite a while and I will not apologize. I read quite a few blogs and there seems to be a very common phenomenon known as the "slightly guiltly blogger." As in, "Man I haven't blogged in a long time! Oops! Sorry!" But there's no real remorse, it's just kind of the place to pick up where we left off. Faithful regular (meaningful) blogging is the exception to the rule. Let's relieve ourselves of the expectation that I'm going to write stuff worth reading all the time. Or any of the time.

Furthermore, because I write here so infrequently, the small handful of people that frequented this page from time to time, has probably been totally annihilated. So now it's just me and my sentences (sentences sentences - - that's an echo) . . . which you are still nevertheless welcome to read (read read).

This is also similar to being a bad letter writer. I am a bad letter writer. Or I was a bad letter writer since that whole scene has mostly evaporated into zeroes and ones. My letters tended to begin with apologies and had a hard time recovering from the guilt of the long spans of time between receipt and my reply. But, I did need time to gather interesting things to write about . . . right?

My conclusions: for the lost art of letter writing - prompt replies trump meatiness (although promptness should not be totally devoid of content) and for the non-art of blogging . . . having something to say is prob more important than just saying any old stuff. Although that's all this has been.

Sorry. (I mean NO! I'm NOT!)

Memories of When it Wasn't

How dreary is November?

Memories of when it wasn't: after school we'd rush home and play street hockey in my driveway. We'd play until the goalie couldn't see the ball anymore - and sometimes keep playing after that until the goalie got hurt because he couldn't see the ball.

So bring your stick and your net and meet me at my parents house tomorrow after school . . .

Some Things vs. Other Things

This morning I'm thinking about a George MacDonald quote I jotted down here earlier. Part of it was, "no man can order his life for it comes flowing over him from behind." (If that's not precise - please accept my paraphrase.) Certainly that's true of inspiration.

It's interesting how I've returned from an amazing weekend at Resonate, and yet didn't have anything to write (at least not yet anyway). It was a ton of fun, it was meaningful on many levels, and I experienced the presence of God in a special way. Yet . . . no writing.

A lot of my thoughts and ideas come to me "flowing over from behind." Like when I'm getting ready to bike to work on a frosty morning, while I'm working, coming home at dusk on a mild day, or maybe while I'm driving. Or ___________. Little bits fall into place around each corner.

While big events can be amazing experiences . . . they can drown out the whispers of inspiration. But maybe down the line they will be after the decibel level has dropped. And sometimes experiences are either so big - or so important, that it's that much more difficult to condense, to make sense of, or to distill down into words worthy of them.

But it's interesting how some things grab you vs. other things.

Curveball: Never Gonna Give You Up

At work we listen to the radio. Kind of a bittersweet thing sometimes. I won't say which station we have it set on - but there's usually a gaff or two a day.

Today the radio guy was going on about something and then ended by announcing the next song: "Here's Viva la Vida by Coldplay." EXCEPT - Coldplay didn't come on . . . Rick Astley did and his song - "Never Gonna Give You Up" (100% pure 80's nostalgia).

NOTE: It's one thing to announce the wrong song, it's a whole nother thing to announce Coldplay and serve up Rick Astley.