Reasons

"Why I blog"

Modified from Terry Tempest Williams's "Why I write"

I blog to make peace with the things I cannot control. I blog to create fabric in a world that often appears black and while. I blog to discover. I blog to uncover. I blog to meet my ghosts. I blog to begin a dialogue. I blog to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I blog to honor beauty. I blog to correspond with my friends. I blog as a daily act of improvisation. I blog because it creates my composure.I blog against power and for democracy. I blog myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I blog in a solitude born out of community. I blog to the questions the shatter my sleep. I blog to the answers the keep me complacent. I blog to remember. I blog to forget. I blog to the music the opens my heart. I blog to quell the pain. I blog to migrating brids with the hubris of language. I blog as a form of translation. I blog with the patience of melancholy in winter. I blog because it allows me to confront which I do not know. I blog as an act of faith. I blog as an act of slowness. I blog to record what I love in the face of loss. I blog because it makes me less fearful of death. I blog as an exercise in pure joy. I blog as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt. I blog out of my anger and into my passion. I blog from the stillness of night anticipating - always anticipating. I blog to listen. I blog out of silence. I blog to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around. I blog because of the humor of our condition as humans. I blog because I believe in words. I blog because I do not believe in words. I blog because it is a dance with paradox. I blog because you can play on the keyboard like a child left alone in sand. I blog because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I blog because it is the way I take long walks. I blog to wilderness . I blog because I believe it can create a path in darkness. I blog because as a child I spoke a different language. I blog with a knife carving each word through the generosity of trees. I blog as ritual. I blog because I am not employable. I blog out of my inconsistencies. I blog because then I do not have to speak. I blog as a witnesssto what I imagine. I blog by grace and grit. I blog out of indigestion. I blog when I am starving. I blog when I am full. I blog on the other side of procrastination. I blog for the children we never had. I blog for the love of ideas. I blog for the surprise of a sentence. I blog with the belief of alchemists. I blog knowing I will always fail. I blog knowing words always fall short. I blog knowing I can be killed by my own works, stabbed by syntax, crucified by both understanding and misunderstanding. I blog out of ignorance. I blog by accident. I blog past the embarrassment of exposure. I keep blogging and suddenly, I am overcome by the sheer indulgence, the madness, the meaninglessness, the ridiculousness of this list. I trust nothing especially my self and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, of madly erase each line --- then I realize, it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass. I blog because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient. I blog as if I am whispering in the ear of the one I love.