So this is a bit counter-intuitive, especially given where we are in the world right now, but I've been sitting on it for a bit and want to think out loud.

I don’t know why I’ve been thinking of blogging as a daily activity.  I mean, I really don’t know where that imperative came from.  But it’s here, definitely; I can feel the iron of it wrapping around my soul.

This piece suggests I should stop that.  It’s about writing emails at work, but its lessons seem to be larger and deeper than that.  It reminds me of a small passage in a letter that TS Eliot wrote to one of his old teachers, J H Wood, in 1919:

There are only two ways in which a writer can become important — to write a great deal, and have his writing appear everywhere, or to write very little…and make each of these perfect in their kind, so that each should be an event.

It's interesting for me to think about that.

Why would an audience want to hear from you (that is, from me) every day?  Not even my family wants all of my opinions.  (OK, ok, maybe especially my family.)  The truth is, I have no idea if anyone reads this blog.  What, then, compels me, what makes me feel like it's some kind of duty?

If you haven’t noticed, much of my stuff is observational and compulsive.  I notice lots of things and by registering my recognition of them on this blog, I get them out of the back corners of my semi-demi-hemi-consciousness. 

So: anyway, maybe I'll try to post something more than a series of "noticings" less frequently--say, once a week or so.  I don't know if I will manage to do that--I may be more frequent.  But if I do, understand it's not because I'm running out of things to say; I'm trying to say more substantial things.  Or something like that.

Meanwhile, be well!