It seems I have reverted to my old ways when I self-hosted my blog at wp.org. I could go on weeks if not months and not write anything. A lot has happened in my 3-week inactivity in the blogosphere; my brother and mother visiting my family here who stopped by for a couple of days before going back to Asia. I have concerns this may be her last visit since age has taken a toll on her, going to beautiful places worth blogging about, my son’s 15th birthday, the kids’ end of the schoolyear, my daughter and I dancing like crazy monkeys to our shared favorite song, updates on the growth of my sunflower plants, books to review etc. and let me not forget to mention about being in a minor car accident the day before Father’s day. Had my husband not had a quick reaction and maneuver, I probably would be in the hospital or maybe dead since I happened to be on the collision side. Nothing major since I’m still here typing.
In a way, it is liberating to know I am not under compulsion to write anything just to have an entry. Reality is, life goes on even without online activity. As a matter of fact, I am missing those times where the internet has not so much pervaded and replaced the meaning of living. I may not have bothered to write my thoughts into a post but it’s actually not expressing my own via a post that I found myself reading what other people have written and interacted with people.
I look out the window
And see the color of dread
One of indifference
That is neither bright nor dead
Is it what I read?
As I peered into a thread
Of thoughts from someone’s head
I realize…Maybe
Some things are better left unsaid
A boy wishing for a friend
A barren woman yearning for a child
Someone who has someone but has no one
Someone looking for someone
A man with stage 4 cancer
A prisoner in one’s domain…
While we carry different loads
The universality of loneliness unfolds…
We live in an age where everything seems to push us to think only of ourselves. It doesn’t help that the very platforms we use to get to know people are the primary enablers to nurse end-time behavioral symptoms of being lovers of self. I can’t help that my own expression becomes a seeming pronouncement of judgment toward others (I have come to this through an exchange with someone here) as if it is an implication of asserting I am in a better place but such a misunderstanding from someone’s part will not stop me. I was born to be politically incorrect. I do try to be civil but my aspiration is to be as what Jesus said of Nathaniel in John 1:47, “in whom there is no deceit.” How awesome for God in the flesh to actually say that about someone. Have you encountered someone who pull the “stop judging me” card on you when in fact, they have wrongly just judged you for supposedly judging them? It is a tactic used and defense mechanism to silence someone and frankly, it does get old.
Then there is this other scenario. If I find myself not articulating my feelings and what I may be going through, does it equate to making people believe I never go through stuff and that I’m all put together? I have written posts about my weaknesses and reading other people’s posts about their struggles and I’m all for sharing one’s vulnerabilities. It takes humility to do that. However, I think a confession should come from one’s volition and not under compulsion of any kind. Sharing thoughts is to be done out of a willing heart.
Articulating things is good but sometimes, quiet times are just as good. I especially cherish moments in life where people say absolutely nothing and still, I enjoy their presence. It assures me that we have an understanding that goes deeper than words.
