To publish or not to publish? That is the question

I've been struggling with this question. I suppose the next question would be "If you aren't going to tell people about your blog, why have a blog at all?" Perhaps the real question is the second part of that second question "Why have a blog at all?" From there I could decide if having a blog will do what I want it to, or not.

So: Why have a blog at all
Well, I wanted to be able to let people know what was happening, and have a place to write all the more everyday occurances and stories that might not get passed around to everyone. Some of the stories get told to Grandma or Grandpa and maybe get passed to one Aunt or another, but chances that they'd get to all the Aunts and Uncles and cousins who'd enjoy them? Slim. And a couple stories more regularly will help give a better sense of who my babies actually ARE as people than a phone call on their birthdays and Christmas and maybe a random email every other month or so. Plus I like to write.

The other, and more important, part is this desire to have some kind of connection to people, to feel like people actually read my blog and care about me or my babies or anything, and that communication from me to them somehow strengthens some relationship. Especially now that I am so isolated from any family, retaining some connection seems important.

Next: Will a blog help do any of that?
Some, I guess. It'll be a way to share stories and for people to be able to get information about what we are doing without having to work too much. But that is the clincher for me. I hate the fact that whoever could just type in a web address and read my blog and get all this information without having to invest anything in getting to know anyone. The world seems so much about shortcuts anymore, and the shortcut often ends up in cheap imitations of things. As for facilitating communication, a blog seems like it would do the opposite. You look at the site and that satisfies any responsibility you feel to "keep in touch" and you close the window and go on with your life, satified that you know what we are up to. So no emails are sent, no letters, no real two way communication. I might be able to look at your blog or page or mass email and be able to know what you're up to too, but it ends up being somewhat short of a real connection. But perhaps that is the problem, that connections don't need to be made because you're family and they should just exist already. Give me a break.

So why do I blog at all? Well, primarily, because I love to write. It is an escape, an opportunity to write down what is going on in my head, to be able to temporarily organize letters and words into SOMETHING. It is like magic, to be able to take these meaningless little symbols and rearrange them and be able to put something down that someone else can look at and decipher and that it can touch them or teach them or anger them or sadden them or just inform them about something. I love the feeling that I get when I write, of being able to have my thoughts become tangible, to become real and concrete. When I get into the writing mode my thoughts must run off and I just type exactly what I am thinking in real time and this flow of thought just comes out and runs and runs and runs and all this emotion and feeling comes out onto the paper. And even if it doesn't get through to those who are reading, it is stuck on that piece of paper for me to feel. Growing up I would repeatedly read things I had written years before and was embarrassed by it. Lately, as we unpacked things and looked through old college binders I had the chance to read old essays or notebooks I had saved and felt, instead of embarrassment, almost an awe that I had written that. The person who wrote some of those papers and essays, who could put those thoughts on paper, who actually had time to think those thoughts, is so far from who I am now. I miss that a little. I know what I write has no eternal significance for anything, is not earthshattering or awe inspiring, but I enjoy it. I enjoy the opportunity to challenge myself to think differently, because I think very much differently when I am writing. And perhaps someday I'll be able to get back to being able to write like I used to. I feel bad that I have neglected that talent or gift or whatever, and lost some of it. Not alot of people value it, dont' think it is much of a gift, not nearly as choice as a good signing voice or being able to play piano or dance or paint or whatever. Heck, most people would rank it below the ability to cut hair and can peaches or cut the lawn in perfectly straight rows. But it is what I have.

Sigh, usually I feel better after writing, but I only feel more torn. Do I give the address to only those who I think will not ignore me because of it? Do I give it to everyone and just see what happens? I mean, it isn't like I will become MORE isolated from family because of it. Most likely things will stay exactly the same on my end, others will just have more information. Granted, my blog isn't like other, more standard blogs. It is alot just a place for me to write, which wouldn't appeal to most of the family just looking for antics of the children. Do I leave this entry here as a question to all those who may read here or I delete it so I don't receive a mass of guilty, pity emails?


So what do I do? Not a clue. And so the question remains.