Four
years ago, I launched a website to market my then-new book,
Wait Until You’re Fifty: A Woman’s
Journey Into Midlife. At the same time, I wrote my
very first blog on the same subject matter and integrated it
into my website. Today, I am writing my fiftieth blog.
That averages out to one blog per month plus a couple of
extras thrown in. All I can say is, “How the hell did four
years go by so quickly and how did I manage to squeeze fifty
stories out of my head?”
The website became a repository for
my art and photos and goofy podcasts but, more than anything
else over the past four years, I have loved sharing
commentary with you on facets of life which we have in
common and some which are mine alone – my life, my truth.
For those of you who have been reading my work, that means
stories about childhood, parents, siblings, politics,
grandparents, summer camp, pets, high school, lovers,
friends, husbands, fears, work, dreams, death and the
occasional odd occurrence that makes life interesting and
worth writing about.
Our lives are made up of
milestones: like when you turned thirty; like when you got
married; like when you lost your father; like when you got
your first job. You get the idea. This is common ground.
On the most basic level, human experiences are shared. Who
among us hasn’t had a first love, a major disappointment, a
poignant loss, a great victory? Aren’t these events to be
celebrated or grieved? And these days, they’re shared quite
publicly, thanks to social media – in all the worst of ways
and all the best of ways.
Since I wrote my first blog in
November 2011, I’ve had two books published. I’ve had a few
art and photography shows. I’ve celebrated my own sixtieth
birthday and my husband’s seventieth. I have visited people
and places that have given me great pleasure. I’ve held
newborns. I adopted a cat. And I’ve seen way too many
loved ones die.
So, what more is there is to write
about? Everything!
Maybe I should say something about
the social media that has given me such a great forum over
the past four years. I still don’t get Twitter (although I
use it) but Facebook has provided me with a means for
communicating with more people than I would have ever
thought possible in earlier times. People are reading me in
Inner Mongolia! I didn’t even know that Inner Mongolia
existed! And Fiji. And Afghanistan.
What do I have in common with
people in Inner Mongolia? We’re human, that’s what. And
that means we’re both responsive to love and pain.
This is not going to be my longest
blog. In fact, it’s going to be my shortest.
As
long as it’s evident that people are reading me, I will
continue to write.
