I have these words and I don’t always know what I should do with them.  

In general and specifically here in my little corner of cyberspace.  It’s not that I don’t have things to say.  I do.  (Oh, trust me, I do.)  It’s that I don’t know how much and how often I need to speak of specific topics.  I started blogging because of an insatiable, irrational need to make the poetry I was writing public.  And for a long time, that’s what I wrote here.  Then I had brain surgery (again) and wanted to honor the relationships I’d found here by being open about that fact–which meant that more prose started showing up.  And that was good too.  It was that switch that convinced me that I wanted one place for poetic and prosiac writings.   So now I’m left wondering if I’m writing enough poetry, enough about my health, enough about the Church, about any of the many things that fill my life.

Today I’m especially wondering as I struggle to finish some old(ish) writing projects because the subject material seems less relevant to the life I’m experiencing today. (It’s not, but I’d like it to be.)  Today I’m wondering because I understand what Brian at Looky Daddy! means in this post about his daughter’s epilepsy.  I am aware that there are people who live with conditions which are much more demanding than mine–even in the height of post-brain-surgery exhaustion.  I try to pay attention to my own Whining Scale and not register too highly.  I am also aware that there is much more to my life than health related matters and not every blood-work order is worth mentioning.  

But I have these words.  I have these things to say.  Because I also know how wonderful it is to hear or read my own story or thoughts or confusion in someone else’s words.  I know that I can and (I think) should ask people to understand some of the ways in which my life, and other people’s lives, are Not Like Theirs in some basic ways.

Not everyone will want to acknowledge that.  Not everyone will even try to understand (and the question of how much we can understand someone else’s story is a different topic).  But those are their decisions.  This is mine.  You see,  

I have these words.