Happiness in Life

Reflections on a Random Tuesday

I've heard a lot about the "good ole days of blogging" lately. Most of the people I know from this funny little online activity are from a period when blogging was quite different than it is today. Blame the prevalence of social media (twitter, Facebook, tumblr, and so on) or blame the fact that life changes I sure had a lot more time to write about nothing when I was 17 than now, when I'm 30.

I've been thinking about how my life online is quite different than it was a decade ago. While most of what I share happens on Facebook and Instagram, it's admittedly much less information that I used to blog about. Blogging was, for many, a deeply personal look into another's life. It used to be a way to form these deep connections with like-souled people without ever "meeting" them face-to-face. Through this weird phenomenon of blogging I have some wonderfully dear friends that I have only meet a few times in my life. Without being involved in the friend circles blogging created, I would not have met Vahid, and that worked out pretty well in the end.

While blogging is not what it used to be, I will always be thankful for falling into this crazy time on what was the tail end of what I consider the "hey day" of personal blogging. Now, most of the blogs I loved so much have been shut down by their owners, transitioned into "lifestyle blogs", or, like me, they simply stopped writing, while their sites remained, a quiet tomb of a life shared online. While blogs slowly died or changed, those who avidly read and commented slowly disappeared as well. People who used to take time to read and comment with their own stores of relevance no longer did that, myself included. We still read but ran out of time to comment, then we ran out of time to read everything, then we stopped finding time to read anything altogether. Our attention dwindled to bite-sized snippets on Facebook or Twitter between work, families, and life.

I've kept this blog here even when I stopped writing. Updating this became less important as I moved onto other things in my life: graduating college, getting engaged, married, finding a job that didn't make me hate life. I always meant to come back, to "get back in the rhythm of it," to find the group again. Although that group is gone, migrating onto other parts of life. I am still here, tentatively sticking my toes into the same water, feeling the nostalgic warmth of it all. I miss writing, writing about my life to reflect back on, writing for the sake of writing and the continuous learning that comes with a writing practice, sharing photographs I took the time to shoot & edit. I realized that when I stopped writing, I stopped doing many of the things I found personal joy in. Coming back to any of those things–photography, writing, painting–has me fumbling to find the path that I had worn so well previously.

Am I jumping back in, blogging forever? I don't know. I never intend to stop, I just…do. Eventually I find it harder to sit and write or paint. Then I find it easier to find excuses than time to sit. Then I find it hard to remember the last time I actually sat. So I'm here, for the moment at least. Maybe I'll see you here and we will wave to each other, remembering how good it feels to be back at the same shore, with the same water washing over our toes.

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