I Can’t Even

A favorite meme during the new year was “Make 2016 the year that white girls learn how to even.” For those who are internet aware, this is a mild jab at the tendency of some modern internet communication to use shorthand, sometimes not even remembering what the shorthand is for.

In this case, I’m pretty sure it’s short for “I can’t even begin to explain/understand why this is ……”

I can’t even begin to explain why this blog has been dormant for as long as it has. I’m choosing this morning not to go back and find out when my last post was. I’m pretty sure (read: 100% certain) I didn’t post at all during February. I don’t know if I posted during January, especially once the kids video project fizzled out (it had a 3 day power outage helping them get urecoverably behind schedule).

How many blog posts since school got done have started with “I keep meaning to write more and then don’t?” A lot, I’d imagine. If I was a reader of the blog I’d have move on by now. Though, in my defense, I’ve stopped trying (temporarily) to read any blogs lately and have been almost excusively reading on the kindle, when that rises to the top. It’s kind of repetitive, right? Boring an maybe a little whiney.

I got up this morning with a lot of thoughts on my mind. Work has been stressful beyond what I thought I could handle. We have had some moments where I was sure my head was going to explode for sure this time. I have several jobs and all of them were stressful at the same time. In addition to all that, my wife has been experiencing some major health challenges (until an MRI we were concerned about a brain tumor or MS) that certainly add stress to both of us. It seemed that every sphere of my life (and some I didn’t know were there) was bringing additional stress. There is more to get done than can humanly be done, and I foolishly allow my psyche to try to carry the weight of what’s undone.

Needless to say I haven’t spent a lot of time reading and writing of late. Which is kind of stupid, now that I think about it. When did I write regularly, more than any other time in my life? When I was in school. During the 16 greuling months of the EMBA work I posted 3-4 times per week on the blog consistently. It helped me process what was going on, and it was in itself therapeutic.

Of course what was going on with school didn’t betray any confidences, proprietary information, or have anything to do with anyone besides myself for the most part. What I’ve got going on right now, if I shared here, would it affect the perception of the places I work or the people I care about? Can I adequately write about my stresses without sharing information that would harm the reputation of others?

I think I’m going to try. I believe I’m ready to write about professional issues in a way that some may see themselves in (and a few accurately) but where no-one who isn’t involved will be able to put pieces together. When I was studying pastoral counseling and preaching Dr. Adams used to refer to “flattening” the example/illustration so that one could use a life story in preaching to help others without betraying the confidentiality of the counseling room. I may have to go back and review some homiletics notes, but I’m going to give it a try.

Are you still reading? Probably not. But then I’m not really writing for you today…I’m writing for my own peace of mind. To process “out loud” in hopes that what comes out will be helpful to not just me but someone else out there, someday.

72a

One thought on “I Can’t Even

  1. Pingback: Peace. | #Optimism and Irony

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