I know I've written a good blog when I reread it hours after the last set of proofs and tinkers, and I find myself laughing again. And one good blog triggers another. I have begun to feel very chicken-and-egg about blogging--does the event trigger the blog or does the blogging make the event noteworthy? Nevertheless, here are some of the signs I have learned that show me when an event is blogworthy or when a blog is going to entertain:
1. When my husband does something and says about it later: It seemed like a good idea at the time. I wonder if he'll be saying that about the motorcycle he bought a year ago that he will finally be bringing home from storage this summer. Frankly, I see myself with a hard cast up to the hip after my first-ever motorcycle ride saying the same thing. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
2. Anything my son does involving what a girlfriend of mine calls "Shit-iroshima". You can draw a conclusion about what this might mean based on the fact that we now call Friday night's 3 AM vomiting session "Puke-asaki". I have yet to write about it, but then I have written before about the mass eruption that is children's barfing. Do we really need to go there again? Yes. Yes, we do.
3. When an event is a metaphor for something else, the event is now blogworthy. For example, the day my dog died, the dog I once shared with my ex-husband. Enough said.
4. When a lesson is learned. For example, why I should never shop with my children. And this week I learned another new lesson: I should have ignored my son when he asked me if using the middle finger was bad. I said yes, and today he willfully and knowingly shot his sister the bird. He's not even five. I have so much to learn.
5. When I eat something so incredible I immediately transcend time and space, my five senses become electrified, and I swear I'm having a foodgasm. I wish I had taken the time to describe every breakfast I ate at Cafe Pasqual's in Santa Fe, New Mexico this year. I love food. I think food is amazing. It's multi-sensory, sexual, comforting, basic, extreme, and a mastery of chemical reaction both in creation and consumption--all at once.
6. When I experience something that I know will directly relate to a reader, a common topic, and put a twist on it you didn't see coming. Or maybe, I put something out there that I never could have said at the kitchen table growing up, like my friend Jay's line in this post: http://cafecatiche.blogspot.com/2010/12/facebook-vs-blogger.html. It's a super short post. You'll know the line when you see it.
7. And when I experience something inspiring or life-changing. The posts about New Mexico are particularly examples of that.
8. Anytime I have to explain sex to my daughter. Remember this one? http://cafecatiche.blogspot.com/2010/05/joy-of-sex-education.html And just recently, we had a whole separate discussion when someone let my daughter watch an inappropriate film. And I quote: "Mom, I thought the guy's thingie went into the girl's thingie like this." She made a gesture. I said yes, that that was true. "Ok, but I just saw this movie where this girl was in love with two guys and one of them got her from behind." You can imagine the phone calls I had to place after THAT.
9. When the small moments are really big moments. I went to a children's talent show at my daughter's school this weekend. Those awkward displays of burgeoning (or failing) talent were beautiful. I have never seen so many brave young people. I watched one little girl sing "Yesterday" by the Beatles. She fought her nerves the entire time--stopping to fight tears, dropping words, and still managing to finish. I haven't even seen that many grown ups present themselves so vulnerably and courageously.
10. Love. Joy. Any moment that makes those things blossom in my heart and any moment that marks loss or transition relating to those things. My blog posts have run the gamut from self-indulgent to self-deprecating, but what I want to share the most is love. Like I said to someone this week, life is hard, but I would rather live celebrating its good moments. I hope that comes through on this blog. My life mission is to connect with others, make their living a better experience than it might have been otherwise. I hope that all the joys and trials of life that I have chosen to so neatly pen here in this blog are an element of that desire to love, share love, and be loved.
Happy reading! And as ever, thanks for coming back here again and again.
Showing posts with label Joy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joy. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
No One Will Take Away Your Joy
A cousin recently posted a message of comfort to a friend on Facebook. He quoted the Bible, specifically a portion of a sentence from John 16:22, when he wrote, “…no one will take away your joy.” Over morning coffee, I wrote to my cousin that this was a very nice sentiment, but an impractical thought. I had been deliberating how to manage a difficult situation and was further frustrated with someone’s obstinacy to embrace the larger picture. I spent the remains of morning completing tasks related to the matter at hand while I reflected with cynicism on the quote from John. I did not realize that later that day, I would find joy despite the reality of dealing with a certain kind of long-term hardship.
That afternoon, my four-year-old son waited on me at school. His face brightened when I entered the room and he held up his arms. His soft skin, with its still-a-baby scent, comforted me as I carried him to the car. Up to that point, I had been burdened with stress, but suddenly, I told him that he was my joy, and no one would take my joy from me. After school, we stole a few minutes at a café together. He shared his muffin by breaking off dime-sized portions. My son, who was once known for his pervasive disobedience and defiance, has become my joy. While I love all my children (if I can so loosely include in that definition my husband’s grown girls), there is something unique in the spirit of my son. He is Mommy’s Tiny. He dances with delight when I enter the room. This, I embrace blissfully, and all burden seems lifted; raising him is a gift. As part of this immeasurable gift, my son has taught me about how to forgive (topic for another blog post) and how to be thankful.
My father once told me that there is a difference between joy and happiness. Joy, he said, is a continuous state. It is knowing that you do the right and honorable thing, that you live by acts of goodness, that you embrace selfless love in others and yourself. Happiness, he continued, is temporary. Happiness is fleeting, is an emotion, and is dependent on circumstances. At the time he had told me this, I was not quite willing to accept his idea, but the concept gave me courage and faith. I have drawn upon this conversation frequently since those turbulent days.
So today, I embrace joy. I am joyful despite fear, frustration, need, and even doubt. The full quote from John is this: So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.
There may be readers here who could benefit from this today. If so, I send you blessings and wishes for mercy and compassion. May you choose to find joy.
That afternoon, my four-year-old son waited on me at school. His face brightened when I entered the room and he held up his arms. His soft skin, with its still-a-baby scent, comforted me as I carried him to the car. Up to that point, I had been burdened with stress, but suddenly, I told him that he was my joy, and no one would take my joy from me. After school, we stole a few minutes at a café together. He shared his muffin by breaking off dime-sized portions. My son, who was once known for his pervasive disobedience and defiance, has become my joy. While I love all my children (if I can so loosely include in that definition my husband’s grown girls), there is something unique in the spirit of my son. He is Mommy’s Tiny. He dances with delight when I enter the room. This, I embrace blissfully, and all burden seems lifted; raising him is a gift. As part of this immeasurable gift, my son has taught me about how to forgive (topic for another blog post) and how to be thankful.
My father once told me that there is a difference between joy and happiness. Joy, he said, is a continuous state. It is knowing that you do the right and honorable thing, that you live by acts of goodness, that you embrace selfless love in others and yourself. Happiness, he continued, is temporary. Happiness is fleeting, is an emotion, and is dependent on circumstances. At the time he had told me this, I was not quite willing to accept his idea, but the concept gave me courage and faith. I have drawn upon this conversation frequently since those turbulent days.
So today, I embrace joy. I am joyful despite fear, frustration, need, and even doubt. The full quote from John is this: So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.
There may be readers here who could benefit from this today. If so, I send you blessings and wishes for mercy and compassion. May you choose to find joy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)