I've been quiet around here lately. In fact, Saturday was my blogiversary and I celebrated it by not writing.
I don't have an easy answer to why. There are things in my head that I don't know how to put into words, and there are things that I don't necessarily want to put out into the world, but I don't think that's the whole problem.
I'm an introvert, a serious introvert, and I'm having to remind myself more and more that that isn't a fault. That not wearing my feelings on my sleeve doesn't make me any less brave than the women and men who do.
But it does make me wonder a little bit what I'm doing here.
There is a way in which writing comes naturally to me, in which writing is what makes me feel like me, heals whatever it is that is wrong in my head.
And there's a way in which this isn't that.
I don't know if that makes any sense.
There's a whole part of blogging that isn't about writing at all, the part that's social and interactive, the part that's about going out into the world and trying to convince people that what you have to say is worth saying.
And I'm not really interested in that. And I think it's important to me to say that. Because sometimes I feel like I'm failing, like I'm not where I thought I'd be after a year, like I must not be doing it right.
But it's not that I can't do it. It's that I'm not interested in doing it.
But at the same time, when I do write something I'm really proud of, I sometimes think, well what's the point? I mean, I know my friends are reading, and maybe that should be enough. But sometimes it isn't.
So, I don't know. This little piece of the web matters. I know this. And it isn't going to go viral. And it's never going to make me a bunch of money. And it probably isn't going to get me a book deal. And it probably isn't going to change the world.
But I do want to write. And I do want what I write to be good. And I want it to be real and true, and I want it to matter.
But lately my head is either too loud or too quiet,