"Squiggly circles refuse straight lines." That was how my wife summarized the point I had just made about the irony of pens working fine when you squiggle them in circles, but scratch ink-less when you try to write an actual number. She's taken to writing down interesting things I say or notice for me or her to blog about later. I probably should do the same, I had several great ideas for this blog just this evening. Unfortunately, you'll have to endure this one.
The problem I've been facing these last couple of days has been one I've struggled with all my life. See, apparently my last blog was fairly well received. You'd never know it from looking at the actual blog, but there were a lot of comments on Facebook asking me when my book was coming out and saying other terribly nice things. I would be lying if that didn't make me happier than a California cow (which, by the way is a terrible analogy because I think cows look pretty miserable wherever they are--but you get my point). That being said, I suddenly found myself in this position of having to live up to my newfound status as a future pulitzer prize winner. Or whatever it is they give to good bloggers. And, not coming up with any ideas, didn't write anything at all.
What is it in our human nature to go to such extremes? One minute I'm timidly posting my blog to Facebook where people I actually know will read it and know I wrote it. I'm satisfied with my work, but embarrassed to actually show it to anyone. And then, a few encouraging remarks later I feel I cannot top myself, my creative glands blocked and swollen and my head following suite. There is a narrow, knife edged line dividing the pitiful from the prideful and it is painfully difficult to walk down it.
The key, I think, is the key to walking any narrow path. One foot in front of the other. Not just swinging it forward, though, like you're strolling quickly down the "awkward" aisle at a department store, but carefully putting each foot actually and literally in front of the other. Our feet, just like our pride, naturally go to the left and right. Self condemning with one step, self praising with the other and back again. Knowing them the way we do, we should see it coming and work to bring them in. With practice, patience and the grace of God, maybe someday we will be good enough for the Romanian gymnastic team.
That being said, it is ironic about the pens.
The problem I've been facing these last couple of days has been one I've struggled with all my life. See, apparently my last blog was fairly well received. You'd never know it from looking at the actual blog, but there were a lot of comments on Facebook asking me when my book was coming out and saying other terribly nice things. I would be lying if that didn't make me happier than a California cow (which, by the way is a terrible analogy because I think cows look pretty miserable wherever they are--but you get my point). That being said, I suddenly found myself in this position of having to live up to my newfound status as a future pulitzer prize winner. Or whatever it is they give to good bloggers. And, not coming up with any ideas, didn't write anything at all.
What is it in our human nature to go to such extremes? One minute I'm timidly posting my blog to Facebook where people I actually know will read it and know I wrote it. I'm satisfied with my work, but embarrassed to actually show it to anyone. And then, a few encouraging remarks later I feel I cannot top myself, my creative glands blocked and swollen and my head following suite. There is a narrow, knife edged line dividing the pitiful from the prideful and it is painfully difficult to walk down it.
The key, I think, is the key to walking any narrow path. One foot in front of the other. Not just swinging it forward, though, like you're strolling quickly down the "awkward" aisle at a department store, but carefully putting each foot actually and literally in front of the other. Our feet, just like our pride, naturally go to the left and right. Self condemning with one step, self praising with the other and back again. Knowing them the way we do, we should see it coming and work to bring them in. With practice, patience and the grace of God, maybe someday we will be good enough for the Romanian gymnastic team.
That being said, it is ironic about the pens.
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