Born to Blog

At last it is warm enough here in Minnesota to open up the garage and do some deep spring cleaning. THIS is the Lent that I am finally getting around to sorting those boxes that came from my parents' home, all those souvenirs of my youth, lovingly preserved and packed by my mother before she died. I found the plaster imprint of my kindergarten hand; the pretty-pictured religion book I spent hours thumbing, awed to be preparing for my First Communion; all the little skirts and dresses that tangibly document my increasing sewing skills. And then--what a surprise: my first journal, began when I was in fifth grade. Clearly the writing bug had already bitten. What was the compulsion then to record and comment on the days' events?

Here's the thing about writing: it lets you live twice. You get to squeeze every nuance out of life's experiences, catching in the replay dynamics too subtle to be noticed the first time around. And if you go back and read what you wrote, you get to live it even more again.

An observation jumped out at me as a sophomore reading Walker Percy's Let Us Now Praise Famous Men: "Whatever is, is holy." Certainly the holiness is not always immediately apparent, but I think it is the quest for the Holy that drives many a reach for the pen (and now for the keyboard to blog, or even for cellphone to tweet). Life is not always pleasant, but it is infinitely interesting, and ultimately, good. Far too precious not to be explored and shared. I don't know if I would go so far as Socrates as to conclude that the "unexamined life is not worth living," but attempting to notice and savor everything that's going on certainly does increase the likelihood of recognizing its richness, and inspiring that important spiritual attribute known as gratitude.

Thanks, Anglicat readers, for journeying with me.