An Analogy Kaleidoscope

I often use analogies when explaining things. It's just one of the ways I'm trying to be like Jesus (not intended to be blasphemous...just slightly funny). Sure, His analogies are called parables and they contain the eternal good news of the gospel as their message, but the point is, we both like to make our points in a way that makes us easier to be understood. Although, I do admit that sometimes, like the one about the ten virgins and their oil lamps, the parable don't seem to easily translate through different cultures, generations, and advanced technology. I mean, obviously, I get the "be ready for the second coming" message but why did the virgins have to wait up all night? Was that normal behavior for that group of people? Only awake virgins with a light were considered fit to marry? And were they all going to get to marry the same bridegroom? Confusing.

Blogging is a moody hobby for me. Some days I'm up and love it, and some days I think it's the bane of my existence. "Then stop," you say, with perfect reason, or "Just post when you want to," another wise advise giver might reply. Yeah, yeah...sometimes both of those things seem perfectly within the bounds of sanity. But then again...do perfectly sane people blog? I don't think so. And if they did, they sure wouldn't be very entertaining blogs.

Awhile ago, I wrote about patio dining. Then later I wrote about hanging up shorts. That was followed closely with a declaration of joining a country club for private members. But here's the thing. Sure, the pool is a lot cleaner at the club and the chaise loungers made from a comfortable canvas versus the sticky (and often broken) plastic, and, by golly, my skin has enjoyed a chaffed-free existence since giving up the metaphorical running, and the table talk a heck of a lot easier to follow indoors minus the riff raff's street noise, but all those perks came at the loss of one vital thing - the thrill of blogging.

I believe that ultimately, the prize for blogging will be the personal record that is created with each post. Even now, my favorite thing to do when I'm down or lacking motivation, is to go back through my archives and read what I was doing, feeling, or writing six months ago. Or a year ago. Or even now...two years ago. That's a prize! And that prize is awarded to anyone with public or private blogs, journals, scrapbooks, or home videos.

However, the small but equally cherished rewards that come along the way are the connections we make with those around us. I have met some of my favorite people through blogs. It opened up a whole network of friendships during my year in Utah that would have been completely unavailable to me had all those bloggers been private. After going private I felt...false. The blog party I attended in May shortly after going private first brought that uncomfortable feeling to my attention. I didn't feel like a "blogger" anymore. During the party, there was no need for introductions because I was already too close to my 100 person limit to invite unproven strangers to read (besides, I have a quirk where I feel stressed when things are running out. Batteries, gas, shampoo. Maybe that's why I can't finish a can of soda? It must make me uncomfortable), and at that point of my personal blog journey, I felt at capacity with my reading. The entire evening, I felt...unnecessary. Yuck.

I've also noticed that with my blog set to private, I'm much, much less inclined to post - which makes that grand prize...well....less. There have been times when I finish posting and almost immediately have something else to say but find myself thinking, "No wait...give the other post a little bit of time at the top. If you post too much, the people that only stop by every few weeks will never see it." More yuck. This is no good.

Besides, with that twenty/twenty hindsight, I'm not quite sure why I was so freaked out. Some of it had to do with how obsessive I felt about my stat counter. I knew I was checking it way too often and, unfortunately, reacting to the number of visitors (which is so embarrassing to admit.) I got rid of that and feel like a surfer during high tide. Mellow. Far out. Relaxed. Some of it also had to do with our upcoming move. I think I was feeling stress all around about it and my blog was something I had control over. With the move come and gone, I don't feel exposed and I don't feel anxious that I'm handing over my cute little family to the wolves. Still, for caution sake, I am going to go back and edit some old posts that mention our last name and place of residence. I say - there's no need to be reckless about it. In future posts, I'll refer to where I live as D-town and, even though our last name is as common as it is - only mention our first names. If you could be so kind as to do the same in your comments, I'd sure appreciate it.

So, I'd like to request a table outside on the patio. And then I'll find my old running shorts and hit the streets - trying to avoid the cars with drivers using their cell phones, and then head on over to the public pool to cool off afterwards. Ahhh...I feel like me again.