Hi. Welcome to my blog
Monday, October 26, 2015 —
I’ve begun with a certain amount of enthusiasm for writing an autobiographical weblog, or “blog”. It seems to me that keeping a log comes from nautical tradition, and the whole purpose of keeping journals and diaries seems like another story entirely. However, for me, writing a blog is as useful a practice as I think it would be for anybody else: I get to write, write, write, and get into good practice as a writer. It also provides me with an opportunity for social commentary, psychological commentary (as a layman), and whatever else is appropriate. (Mind you, I’m not qualified as a psychologist or a legitimate psychiatrist of any degree, and with as much defensiveness and escapism as some people seem to exhibit, I don't think you could pay me enough to pursue a career in analyzing them professionally. No, not really. However, if it’s actually relevant upon more careful consideration, I don’t mind commenting on them in a blog. Oh yes, how I’ll comment on them, and oh, how I’ll laugh….
As you can tell, on many occasions I’m anything but more careful, because it simply isn’t necessary or cogent.)
Another reason to write a blog is because, if I work on S.E.O. and website promotion, and if I get advertising working on my website, I could make money from blogging. Yes, it does play a role.
Getting the work done is the only challenge to making this blog work. As the saying goes, it’s not rocket science. It only takes consistent, steady work, and before long, I should have a post ready once a week, I hope, if not more often. (To be honest, I think it remains to be seen.) What’s interesting, in the middle of this process, is to notice the challenge of being motivated. This is where the story really becomes autobiographical.
Not every circumstance in life will always be magical, inspiring and joyful, but circumstances can still improve consistently. Furthermore, for me, finally working on my website again is a part of that process. However, I’ve observed the onset of some feeling I’ve had, interestingly, as if there were nothing more to pursue, and as if everything were good enough as-is without any more effort.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I like my life and my circumstances are good, but nobody should ask me to tolerate the notion that I shouldn’t be trying to work as hard as the next person, to a reasonable degree. I’m quite delighted to guarantee nothing of the kind.
Naturally, now that I’ve gotten to the point of articulating this impression and writing it down, I no longer seem to be experiencing it. It’s almost like that cliché about having some complaint with a car, but by the time you get to a mechanic, the car doesn’t misbehave in the same way anymore. On the other hand, I don’t miss the feeling. I don’t like having that kind of thing in my way.
How reckless would it be, however, if I did just sit on my backside and didn’t accomplish anything? My life wouldn’t improve, nor would my circumstances, and from the way I see it, I’d have doomed myself to a death of very subtly, very gradually, growing older and sicker and eventually degenerating past the point of no return. Furthermore, I would have brought it on myself because I had put aside the will to fight for something better. That’s pretty pathetic, my friends. That’s not something I necessarily have to accept.
I believe my circumstances can improve consistently, however. Opportunities arise. To add to that, while I'm writing a blog, I get to look up and write about virtually any subject I want (and add in new keywords) — ontology, mathematics, religion — pretty much anything that captures my attention. That could be a lot of fun.
Apparently, the sky’s the limit.