The glasses through which we see Life
After a while, you know your blogger.
You know the worst of us; you know the best.
You know where we ramble; you know where we write our best.
You know where we tell our truths; you know where we–yes, we do–hide what we don’t want to say.
You know where we share our triumphs; you know where we omit our failures.
Yet our failures, too, sprout up among the words, like autumn mushrooms, saying in silence what can’t be said in words.
You know where we sing.
You know where we whisper, fear tinting our sideways expression.
You know where we dance.
You know where we tiptoe.
You know where we ooze creativity, like a Queen, like an elf, like a fairy on Midsummer’s Eve.
You know where we rely upon rote and predictability.
You know when we blog because we’re bored or restless or not-knowing-what to-do-next.
Do you judge us?
You know when we blog because the Muse tugs at our hair, holds us sideways, refuses to let go.
Do you judge us?
Suspended
You know when we blog thoughtfully, allowing our Minds and thoughts to rule.
You know when we blog passionately, our hearts strung out on desire.
You know when we blog wisely, thoughtlessly, happily, sadly, journalistically, sensationally, bare, minimum, photographically, Zen-like.
You know.
You know how it resounds in yourself, how it reflects, how it shows you shades of what you’ve shared or hidden with your world.
You know how another’s words illuminates, enlightens, enchants, denies, obscures your own thoughts, dreams, beliefs, ideas.
You readers know the best of us.
You know our worst.
We only hope we’ve shown you a mirror which you can then see yourself more clearly, if only for an instant.
Do you judge yourselves?
You know.
We’re not writing for only ourselves…we’re writing for you, and how you choose to interpret the fleeting words appearing on the computer screen of your moment.
Catch this moment and see yourself more clearly.
Then we bloggers will polish the mirror of our next undecided moment and show you the next arising…and the next…
Lake Superior Spirit 
🙂 I wrote…tried to write a blog about this and what is ok to share, the good the bad the nasty the simple what is, and the expectations and then I didn’t finish it because I didn’t quite like the snarky voices in it, along with the quieter recounters and the watchers of the process of my own thoughts. I stopped being me and I waited to see what would be permissible.(i fixed a typo there so you might think better of me :P)
I really like how you wrote this, I thank you for holding up what I thought(ha) that I had put down.
I love how you are able to find the words that often escape many of us. Although photography is my passion on my blog, I hope that I can sometimes delight with words as well. Words always seem to be available for your taking, shaped into combinations to make us think. Thanks, Kathy.
Oh Kathy, get outta my head ! 😉 I have thought, wondered, pondered, but you have put into words so beautifully, what has merely niggled in the back of my mind.
I’m going to have to start wearing my old aluminum foil hat 😉
You write so beautifully. I wonder sometimes why I blog. I have at times chosen my words carefully, holding back that which I wanted to write, in favor of that which I thought more appropriate. Oh to be free to release the innermost thoughts without fear. The soul would certainly be better for it. Sometimes I just can’t even get started. You, however never disappoint. Thank you.
What? You talkin to me?
I love this. How many times I have had the same thoughts! You have voiced them beautifully here!
“Making Blogs Out of Nothing at All”
I had this running through my head all through the first part of this blog. We’ve got to find a way to fit the lyrics with the music.
Oh Kathy I thought I wrote a blog because it is fun! Now I shall have to ponder what it is all about. Mmmm……….showing off my poetry as this seems like a good place for the world to see it!?
Kathy – This is just stunning! I intend to copy it and save it for future pondering. One of my favorite poems of all time is “Silence” by Edgar Masters and I almost felt like I was back inside his head for a few minutes while visiting yours. Though a journal keeper for most of my life, I have never considered myself a “writer” (ie. creatively, artistically) and that truth becomes clearer every time I read your blog. ‘Don’t want to say more because I want to go back and reread this again. Love treat to find on returning from babysitting my granddog! Also loved the rose colored glasses!
“…and how you choose to interpret the fleeting words appearing on the computer screen of your moment.”
yes, Yes, YES!
You speak to that which is deep within us, we readers and writers of blogs. The age-old conundrum of what it’s okay to share and what should be withheld. Sometimes sharing a bit more than perhaps we should because we need to get it out, we need to unload those things that eat at us. Because we are human.
Ohhh… I do love your metaphor: “Yet our failures, too, sprout up among the words, like autumn mushrooms, saying in silence what can’t be said in words.” And the suspended leaf – so simple and meaningful, a precious moment in nature.
I am glad that you all enjoyed this…that it made you think…that perhaps you resonated. Thank you, dear blogging friends.
…..we only hope we’ve shown you a mirror which you can then see yourselves more clearly, if only for an instant.
Kathy, I could fill pages with what I’ve found in the mirror of your blogs, your words, the silence behind your words. As I write this tears of gratitude and love begin to rise up……
Thanks again, you beautiful mirrors… You are as much a mirror for me as I am for you. Blessings…
Beautifully said Kathy…no judgements coming from here, only love and compassion and joy. Thank you for being who you are, just as you are and for sharing so much of yourself. You are a gift, a blessing and I am so grateful. ♥
What a gift, Brenda, to be one of those persons who do not judge. We could all take lessons from you! I try not to pay much attention when the mind starts its judging, but am not always successful. Thank YOU for being a gift, as well. Aren’t we surrounded by gifts?