Over the past couple days I've had some wonderful emails and phone conversations with people, concerned that I'm broke, jobless and having trouble with the insurance company...
And you know what? - some days really suck. Yesterday morning sucked. By mid-afternoon things got better. I did some gardening, I emailed a few literary agents, and I had a really excellent evening of meditation and thought at Satsang. Afterwards I cooked myself some salmon for dinner. $2.50 worth of salmon was more than enough to fill me up, where, during the internet boom, it wasn't enough to have a single piece of sushi and I ate a lot of sushi then.
I was broker when I was busting my ass working as when I'm busting my ass blogging - and I didn't realize it.
Postcards from the Bleeding Edge has been my daily journal of my steps back from total collapse. I didn't intend that, it just turned out that way. Through publishing it on the net I've learned many important things. The most important?
Everybody has days that really suck.
When you are deep inside your own navel sometimes you think you're alone in the universe.
You're wrong. You're not alone in having days that really suck. That's just your limbic system fooling you. It really helps to share your pain with others - and your joy! -1 + 1 = 0 - and in that 0, that emptiness, exists peace.
I do feel, often, that mixing in the good stuff (Sex in Politics, Beating the Brand, Uncle Bill's Helicopter) with the bad is unkind to my audience, that perhaps I should switch to having one page for finished work and another for the diary. I may do that. At the moment, I only notify the A-list bloggers when I have something worth reading. My RSS is broken, so even people that want to subject themselves to everything I write can't get updates.
I'm not that organised right now. Apologies. I'll start a mailing list soon...
The person that I need to write for, first, is me. As I journal I dump things out of my overcrowded cerebellum and let something else float to the top. When I look at it again, hours or days later, I understand better what my overworked subconcious is trying to tell me. Sometimes I'm inspired to write more, to revise and polish. Sometimes I get a story idea - and sometimes I get wonderful emails filled with friendship and ideas!
I'm pretty sure that if you out there were to start a blog - that you first need to write for yourself, not others, too - and you will understand yourself better. Our inner voices have been so drowned out by the rest of world, by television, by mass production, by hollywood - that most of us can't remember who or what we are - thinking, reasoning, feeling, literate human beings.
In my case I have to stack up all the things that are going right for me against the bad - and having money and work is far less important than having my mind and health back, and having friends to talk to, and stories to write. I was ridden by demons hiding in my blind spots and now I'm not - most of my problems now are external to me. This is Progress with a capital P. I'd rather battle with an insurance company or seek work that I can do than wrestle with things unseen.
Today, things suck, worse. I'm going to lose my electricity in a few minutes. I should be able to restore it in a few days. And Joanne, a nurse from Unum Provident, called me with questions. I told her my story. She gave me empathy and encouragement, and said she would do everything she could, to help. I wanted to tell her about Uncle Bill's Helicopter. I think she already rides in one.
I should be able to check my email and blog from elsewhere.