There has been a lot of chatter about how to rev yourself up to keep on blogging. This is a perfectly reasonable point of view for those who haven’t been blogging for a long time. Some of us have been blogging on WordPress for a decade and/or elsewhere for years before WordPress, although it wasn’t called blogging yet. Whatever it was called, it was the same.
Slowly but surely, all those other sites closed. Geocities. Remember that? I worked there for years, though not with quite as much diligence as I have on WordPress. There was another one that used stories. It was bought by Facebook who promptly closed it down. At least three different other blogging places closed while I was still using them. I suppose the reason WordPress is still around, along with Blogger (Google), is they are still available.
The thing is, I’m pretty much blogged out. I have blogged my way through a huge variety of personal and medical crises as well as government calamities. Whatever I had to say, I’ve said it. Meanwhile, life has slowed down for us. Not only are we older, but the lockdown changed the world and somehow changed us. I’m not sure exactly how, but maybe I just learned how to do nothing.
I had never been any good at doing nothing. I’ve always been busy. The older I got, the busier I got. I was always writing, reading, taking pictures, thinking about doing all of that. Between getting older and having health issues that tend to make me not able to move freely — and feeling as if whatever I have to say, I’ve said it. Whatever I have left to say, is it important enough to bother? I’ve also grown surprisingly negative about the state of the world and the likelihood of anything getting better in my lifetime. My level of cynicism is very high.
I believe that many well-intentioned people intend to do their best. I simply wonder how they can really do it.
There is also the sudden and rather shocking recognition that while I may get “healthier” relative to how I’ve been in recent years, I’m not getting younger. Garry isn’t getting younger. For his age, Garry is very healthy, but he isn’t young. I’m younger, but not as healthy, so we more or less even out. Is this — me and my computer — how I want to spend the rest of my life?
I feel like I’m missing a personal life because I live on the computer. I like posting pictures and writing a little about what’s going on. How the garden is growing. How my orchids are doing. Little tales of the birds, the Duke, the house, the seasons.
When Sue Vincent died at the end of March, it changed me. I don’t know quite how to explain it. We have suffered so many losses in recent years. Many of Garry’s colleagues are gone. Many of our friends are gone. All my and Garry’s older relatives are gone. Because so many living souls have passed, I had developed closer relationships on line — and now, they are beginning to slide away too. In the course of lockdown, we lost a handful of close friends, two of our three dogs, and several online friends. In some cases, I didn’t even know who had died because I just stopped hearing from them. Then Sue got cancer and died and for some reason, that cut the legs out from under me. She was 20-years younger than me — just two years older than my son — and her passing dug a hole in my heart.
The world has grown so mean. Slowly but surely, I’ve severed relationships with people with whom I used to be able to have something resembling a civil conversation. Now, it is either full agreement or rage. There are no cross currents of thoughts and ideas. We live in our own, rigid world and reach out to no one who doesn’t already agree with us.
This isn’t the world in which I grew up and I don’t like it. I don’t see how we can move on from where we are to a better place. I don’t see a road or even a path. Anyone who does see a better future, please tell me about it. Because all I see today is our world drifting until we fade away.
What can I say that wasn’t said by me or one of my co-writers? What surprises remain? Things can get worse. Things may get a bit better here and there. But major changes? Do we expect any? I don’t. And because I don’t, I’m not sure anyone really wants to hear what I have to say. I’m not even sure I want to hear it.