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Creating and Sharing As Deeper Engagement (or Things We Make that Others Laugh At)

Things We Make that Others Laugh AtI’ve been in a few thrift stores lately and one of my all-time favorite things about thrift stores is finding and…um…celebrating the ridiculous stuff that people have owned and passed on. I make up stories in my head of the original owners and what possessed them to buy these things in the first place. I like to imagine the unbelievable joy they derived from owning this thing that I am now mocking in shameful judgment. Did they truly love this crazy shit and grow tired of it? Were they possessed to buy more crazy shit so they had to sell this stuff to make room? Did they just die and leave it for their heirs who then experience moments of comic relief in their hour of grief? Were these prized possessions actually fashionable or popular in some place and time?

Then my mind drifts back one step further to the artist. The Creator. The font of endless creativity from which sprung this gem that I now hold in my hand. Sometimes it’s obvious that, sure, at some point it may have been original, beautiful, cool, whatever. And other times I can derive no understanding of what possessed someone to think that what they were making was actually a good idea or would be remotely desirable to any member of the human race.

And here’s where I venture into something deeper: is this what keeps us from creating…writing, playing, composing, making, sharing? Will someone laugh at this? It’s already been done so why should I do it? Will this thing only matter to me and if so, why should I bother sharing it? Why bother making it in the first place for that matter?

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Blogs: Where’s That Loving Feeling?

So what’s up with neglecting our blogs? And even more than that, what’s up with apologizing for it?

I know for me I have plenty to write about but I don’t take the time. Or I have a little time but surely not enough to craft this valuable idea or revelation into words with the care that it deserves. No, these ideas I want to share should be held onto until I have time to really wrap them in an amazing blog post. Of course, then, nothing gets shared.

I think too much about what others will think: is it offensive or will I be clear or is it funny enough or does anyone really care? Am I trying to connect with others or am I just cognitively masturbating? Am I doing that now? All this is really hilarious when I consider no one will even read it or maybe two or three people will but I’ll never even know it. Does that even matter? Then I’m back to, “oh, I don’t really have time, later.”

Here’s what I also think though. I think I do have time. I think it doesn’t have to be the blog post that brings you to tears or makes you laugh out loud (though I can still secretly hope that the one person who does read it weeps like a baby or laughs so hard they make others wonder what’s so damn funny).

I think I don’t do this for you. I’m selfish or maybe i’m just a geeky narcissist or maybe this is basically a journal and I kind of want to see if anyone is listening and can relate too. I do care that you’re here and I’m trying not to care if you aren’t. But isn’t it just a beautiful thing that I can even share any thought or feeling through this medium and it doesn’t have to be perfect, you’ll still know what I mean? Or maybe you won’t but someone will. How cool is that? At the very least I’ve taken the time to get my thinking straight and I just feel better.

There. You see? I’ve done it. I just got my love back and all I had to do was write it down and share it with you. That’s the thing about love: we have it whether or not anyone cares and that’s pretty special. And that’s the thing about blogs—no matter how frequently or how eloquently they’re written—you never know when or how you’ll connect with another person, and that’s pretty special too.

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