I wanted to write a new blog post every week. Here it is Wednesday of the third week and I am scrambling, still having only published one blog post. I have written (Translation: started writing) two already. One about parenting. One about writing. Then decided I don't know enough about either one.
I find myself slightly (translation: hugely) intimidated about putting my words out there on the internet. Not that anyone but friends read my blog and only a handful of them, I am sure. I am a fledgling afraid to try her wings. I stand on the edge of the nest, second-guessing everything. Will the wind lift my wings or will I crash to the ground, thrashing and wounded?
Even if no one sees it now, it's there. Forever. How many times a week do we see something dredged from someone's past that they now regret saying? And the internet is merciless. Criticism I can take (Translation: I will cry into my pillow alone at night). But some people are just vicious. Armed with a keyboard, they hurl their words, sharp as swords. Am I ready for that kind of attention?
And you can offend anyone with anything. Years ago, one of my daughters had a murder mystery birthday party. It was like a live game of Clue. Each party-goer was assigned a character and they played the part throughout the party. At the end, we revealed the murderer. I felt it was no more harmful than the millions of books and movies featuring detectives solving murders. But when I planned the party, I ran across a comment on the website about how the game diminished the tragedy of murder. I could understand that. If I had a family member or friend who had been a victim of a homicide, I would certainly not be throwing a party centered around an imaginary murder.
But where do we draw the line? My kids are adopted and within the adoption community, I have heard people who believe using the word "adopt" in other ways diminishes the process of bringing a child into your family. That to use "adopt" in other contexts makes people think adoption of a child is easy or less meaningful than it should be. That it negates the complexity of building a family. So no adopt-a-highway. No adopting new policies. Does this sound ridiculous? Consider for a minute if you had adopted a child who had severe emotional issues from neglect and through your love, your perseverance, and your openness to seeking professional help, you helped bring your child to a measure of emotional healing. You might also be a little sensitive about seeing a word that for you is so rife with meaning and emotional weight used in a trivial context.
But English language is fluid and blessed (some might say cursed) with shades of meaning. I am OK with adopt anything. Adopt a tree. Adopt a rock. Whatever. But if I were to write a little piece about adopting a section of highway, I am sure that if enough people read it, someone out there would be offended.
So stay tuned. One of these days, next week or the week after (I am flexible. Translation: I procrastinate), I will stand up tall and put on my big girl pants and Kevlar vest and write about parenting and writing and whatever else I can think of. For now, I'll just write about how I am thinking about writing.
Comments