When I was in third grade, Mrs. Powell, the most wonderful teacher in the world would tell her unhappy, scowling students, “You’d better straighten that face up. It’ll stick like that.” Almost always, all the other students would start making the face too, and soon the entire class, including the grumpy kid, would be laughing. Mrs. Powell always said, “Now THAT’S a face to get stuck with.”
There was a time when all I had to do to find some fabulous blog to read was turn on my machine and go to my favorite web site. There would appear, almost magically, all sorts of conversations, discussions, observations and the like. Some, I would read and ponder a bit. Others, I would comment on or praise for the profound thoughts or creative bent. There was never a shortage of delightful reads or inspiration.
I don’t know what happened but the current changed. Perhaps the stars misaligned. Or maybe it was me. Whatever caused the shift in the blogosphere, I no longer easily find blogs that inspire me to participate or write. It isn’t that there aren’t millions to choose from. In fact, that may be part of the problem. An infinite number of choices often precludes finding what we are looking for no matter what we seek. Consider trying to choose paint for your walls when faced with and entire wall of paint chips.
My problem is, without interaction or feedback, it’s difficult for me to write. There is no dialogue. I still have words swimming around disrupting the cobwebs on my brain, sporadically landing on the screen, on napkins at restaurants, on my hand. They don’t lead to anything. They are not edifying. They are not contributing. They are not culminating into something more than they were before I wrote them.
I have often said I write because I must. Audience or no, the words erupt and must be spoken…er…typed lest they crowd out everything else in my brain, preventing me from doing anything else until I set the thoughts free. The discovery is, however, they will not burst forth. They will simply dry up and blow away until there is nothing left. What’s that phrase? “Use it or lose it.”? I never liked that phrase. Subconsciously, I must have known it’s deeper and more profound meaning. That this love of words and writing, this art form, this gift is not necessarily permanent or mine. That if I neglect or ignore the words, they can be taken from me. That if I do not search for inspiration, I may not ever find it again. That if the dreaded case of writer’s block lasted too long, it might just get stuck like that.