Letting Go

Grades must be entered by midnight on Monday, and I am buried in student papers. The week has brought such turmoil and sweetness too, and I just want to sit. Think. Write. I told Mallory the other day that there are three areas of my life that beg for attention this week: my family, my job, and my blog. So many stories to tell. One day I will tell you about Steven's vulnerability as he faces serious mental illness. (Stories about the woman who wanted a new life.) I'll tell you what it is like when 155 adolescents flow in and out of my classroom each day, all with different emotional needs and ability levels. (Stories about the most conservative school district in the universe.)

Even more invasive, though, are thoughts about the evolution of this blog. It began as a way to discipline myself to write and to half-assed put it out for others to read for feedback. The address was carefully given to select family and confidants: Moe, Huck, Auggie, AJ, Georgia and Mallory. I changed my comments to "registered users only". Suddenly a few weeks ago I received a comment! I was afraid to look. When I did, I found a reflection, brought into the world by my words. How magical! I messed with my settings some more, decided to open the door a bit more. More comments trickled in. Every time my phone jingled that I had a message, I secretly hoped it would be a blog comment.

I gradually realized that the evolution of my blog was moving out of my control. What had begun as my own private world was becoming a public project, with comments that had the potential to change the direction of my writing. What if the comments became the story and the postings were secondary? What if the merge and flow was the message, instead of my individual postings? Could I let go and flow with it? Or would my words entrench themselves and harden on the pages that I possess? "My precious..." (Imagine me now gazing hypnotized at my laptop screen. Just out of bed, my hair rides me like a thousand cowlicks sprung to freedom.)

I am interested that the process has begun to vie with the product for attention. I guess I'll take the red pill now, chill a bit, and see where this ride takes me.