So far, I’ve really enjoyed having a completely open and public blog. What I mean by that is that my name is right here for you to see. Any friend, relative, future – present – and past employer, teacher, lover-long-gone or soon-to-be can know who I am and read what I write.
But it has its downsides. I had some really devastating moments this week professionally as well as some minor triumphs. I read a great book. Thought some interesting thoughts. And other things. Things that affected me. Things that were important to me. And I didn’t write them down. Not here. Not anywhere.
When I wrote anonymously, it was something of a relief to shed the nastiness and sorrow and insecurity away into the void. I know I could still do this to some extent.
But what of honesty? Why do we think (do we know?) that being honest about everything can hurt us. Doesn’t the saying go that the truth will set you free? I suppose freedom can hurt and hurt bad. As it also goes, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose. We may be free, but does that mean that we are alone in our wide open fields?
When will we learn, or accept, that we are all children? Fun-loving, wild, and careless. Insecure and fearful. Looking for praise and approval. Still trying to figure it all out. Children. We’re all just pretending now. Only most of us have simply forgotten the pretense.
On the plus side – I made banana bread today – the organic veg people keep sending fruit that seems to be on the verge of rotting – or already there. Maybe that’s just organic for you. So, I decided to make lemonade of my lemons and made old fashioned banana bread. De-lish.