A Drop in the Bucket

Holy moly, I just looked at how many blog accounts there are, and the number 426 million came up.
 
Talk about being a drop in the bucket, no I mean ocean.
 
I began blogging before blogging was popular. Motivated by a friend who wrote a newsletter, I decided to write one as well, a journal of sorts, and I called it The Frog’s Song.
 
I sent out a printed version to friends, and it lasted for a few years. And when this mysterious, weird thing called blogging came available on the Internet,  I moved to that.
 
Even after all those years, I am not a big fancy blogger with a million followers or readers.
 
I’m a simple little blogger, who writes for the fun of it, of things I’m interested in, and if I can tweak a thought, or add something of value, so much the better.
 
My readers are people of excellent taste. They either like me, and therefore graciously read my words, or find something here that suits their fancy—Oh gosh, I just saw that someone channeling Archangels is getting a million views.
 
Well, what can I say? I’m not a channeler. And I suppose she is saying/channeling excellent content. 
 
Neither have I paid for advertising. So,  I suppose many people do not know I exist.
 
Yesterday I watched #Marie Forleo interview #Seth Godin, the el-primo blogger who blogs every day. Imagine.
 
He says everyone should blog every day.
 
I have been afraid people would get bored with me if I blab too much, and blogging every day is over the top for me, but he has a point. If you know you have to say something the next day, you will pay attention.
 
On top of that,  you would leave a trail of where you’ve been what you’ve thought.
 
A lot of people’s thoughts could go in their journal and kept to themselves, but I suppose blogging would keep them on their toes a bit more.
 
Four hundred and twenty-six million bloggers and counting! That blows my mind,  426,000,000,  did I get the zero’s correct? I just wanted to get the magnitude of it.
 
I am happy you found me among the multitude.
 
Thank you for joining me today.
 
Some bloggers wonder if the only blogs read are the ones that tell people how to blog.

 
Okay. How to Blog:
 ·       Turn on Computer
          Put butt in chair.
·         Type.
Write as you talk, and USE CONTRACTIONS. It makes conversation sound like a conversation.

I have a gripe against The Royal Caribbean who chastises email writers if they are not formal. Do not use contractions, they say, do not call a person by their first name, and grammatical errors are subject to severe reprisals.

They must have had the same college English professor I had.

All the students at Oklahoma State University were addressed as Mr., Miss. or Mrs. I was a Mrs, and the professor found that intriguing. Perhaps he didn't know I was 23, while most of the other students were 18 or 19.

And I had an accent. I guess an Oregonian in Oklahoma would. 

·        Lastly—blog brilliant content. Ha ha ha, There’s the rub.
 
James Baldwin—remember him? He would have been 92 on the 2nd of August and was popular during the civil-rights movement. He wrote, Notes of a Native Son, The Fire Next Time, No Name in the Street, The Devil Finds Work,  and an unfinished manuscript, Remember This House, was expanded and adapted for cinema as the Academy Award-nominated documentary film I Am Not Your Negro.
 
From an interview published in The New York Times Baldwin said:

“You is speaking to an old rat. I find much of so‐called avant‐garde writing utterly trivial. If there is no moral question, there is no reason to write. I’m an old‐fashioned writer and, despite the odds, I want to change the world. What I hope to convey? Well, joy, love, the passion to feel how our choices affect the world . . . That’s all. (1979)

Here here, Baldwin.


P.S. Update on my book The Frog’s Song. 
(The frog calls the rain that settles the dust for our journey.) 

This book is a journal about our move to and from Hawaii, of living off the grid, and what strange forces we experienced there. The title is an homage to that old journal once named The Frog’s Song.  I went through about 50 possible titles before settling on The Frog’s Song. I believe it fits.

The Coqui’s, those sweet little frogs that sing their own name lulled me to sleep in Hawaii. When I first moved there, I thought they were birds, and they create a great jungle sound. 

The Frog’s Song is being typeset. Wow, I thought they would go digital. Yea! That seems carved in stone. (And with me and my many boo-boos, that’s scary--and exciting.)

Are You Showing God a Good Time?

“Ignorance on fire trumps experience every time.” –Insurance Salesman

Does anyone want to read a blog that isn’t about blogging?

Nope.

Well, maybe a few. Dear friends who are interested in what in the heck you do with your days. Some want motivation whether to take action or to make life changes.  Some are searching for answers to specific questions, like how in the world do we get high SEO ratings?

I haven’t a clue.

I know, though, that we’re all salespeople.

I didn’t think I was since I’m not charging for anything I write, post, or blab.

But I realized yes, I am selling. I want people to read my blogs—what in the heck am I doing here otherwise, blowing smoke?

I want people to buy my book when it eventually comes out in 2019.  (After two years with the publisher)

At a party aren’t you selling yourself when you strike up a conversation with someone?

Are we so jaded with somebody trying to sell us something that we turn a deaf ear? Some are shysters, yes, taking advantage; others are trying to make a living.  

And don’t blame the marketers, advertising is the way to get eyeballs on their merchandise.

People have to know it exists.

I want to give my gift. And I think that gift is to talk about self-realization, motivation, and spiritual growth.

Sound lofty?

Well, it is. I see how unhappy many people are. I see how they believe their self-worth is equal to dishwater. I see how they fear dying and fear living abundantly.

I see how people are carrying emotional injuries from childhood, protection that worked then, but as an adult, it isn’t working. Boy, do we need to drop that garbage.

I see how 10’s of thousands of people throng to Tony Robbins events with the intention of either healing themselves or gaining a greater understanding about how life works. Some want to rise to greater heights. I saw how when Tony speaks with a participant; most are suffering.

In conversations, people roll into fear—you know, the government, “trying to do God’s will.” Well, crap, God’s will is your will. That’s my message. Carve out your own path. Give God a break.

“Are You Showing God A Good Time?”-

- Rev. Linda Finley (Center for Spiritual Living,)

You wonder in “Giving your gift” if the receiver will like it. You question if you have matched their tastes. They might re gift it, or give it to goodwill, or stash it in the closet. “Gee thanks,” they mutter while wondering what in the world you were thinking.

It’s embarrassing.

That’s the way it is with writing. You put out some words; some will be scooped up gentle as baby birds, others will get trampled.---Not the baby birds.

It’s a crap shoot.

But let’s get smart. Write what you want to read. Yep, yep, yep, I know not all people are like me, but you aren’t writing for the world. You are writing for a special few.

Are you are giving your gift? Find what floats your boat.

Find it. Give it.