Thursday, December 02, 2021 (December’s fullest moon [“Cold Moon”] rises on the 18th.)
Today, Word Press offers congratulations for my having written, over the past 723 days, 723 blogs. I’m chuckling, because before beginning a relationship with Word Press, already I’d written at least 723 blogs. In the old days, those went via gmail. My mailing list grew, eventually became too cumbersome for gmail to handle.
Word Press offers a cool platform. Its “internet engine” consists of algorithms, moving blogs around and tagging blog-topics to searchers’ word-queries. Generating such associations attracts readers to bloggers.
As for having written many hundreds of blogs, the practice began from a “problem of myself”. I was aging, living on a rocky property alone, except for having horses. In a time before modern smart watches that can recognize if a wearer falls, I feared tripping accidentally, maybe breaking a hip. In the worst scenario, nobody else would know, my horses might starve. Writing daily became a quick way to tell friends, “Hello, all’s well.”
Soon it seemed that writing, “Hi, I’m okay,” couldn’t keep folks bothering to open and read daily sends. They had to be more interesting, and the notes began to evolve, eventually becoming small essays about various interests, those of observing, to recognize and feel, experiencing affections, facing challenges, and surprisingly, unending lessons and learning.
Blogging consistently is practicing, to improve one’s explorations, explanations, and editing skills. Gradually creative processes reveal an unexpected bonus, that of introducing more of oneself to one. Tall achievements.
I owe worlds of thanks to friends and family who read my blogs, and likely suffer through some, but get in touch if a morning message doesn’t show up. That kindness makes me feel safer, for knowing that if needed, help’s available for my animals and me.
Dear Friends: This one’s for you, and sends much love! Diana