Too Much Jane Eyre

Chick flicks?  Why are they so popular? Why are we such dyed in the wool romantics that we continually gravitate toward fairy tales, novels, movies, anything that stirs our hearts and reminds us we were young once and were viable candidates for the starring role in our own once upon a time?

Our bodies may be old but our hearts are still beating. Is it possible to turn off the romantic spigot that still churns out the desire for palpitations caused by a sideward glance, a too-long gaze, a daydream, a song lyric, a love note?

Must our fairy tale only happen once, then fade away and turn to something predictable and careworn? Is this why marriages are set aside and families abandoned?  Is this why people walk away, searching for a renewal of the dream? This screams travesty and yet the pining seems strong and real enough that sense often is pushed aside in favor of chasing those long lost palpitations.

What is the answer then? Are movies a good idea to replace the longing? Or are they part of the problem?  Are novels an escape, or a too-potent reminder of feelings, delights, drama that are never to play in one's heart again?

Maybe books and movies paint an unrealistic picture of the dream of true love.  Did music really swell in the soundtrack of my own great romance? It seemed to. Did my prince charming really spring onto the scene with heart stopping, breathtaking heroics? That is how the memories play out in my head.

Then why could I ever hope to have them replaced with something new? How could anything new be better than the reality that was?

The problem is my heart still thinks it is young.....

What I Feel, What I Think, What I Learn

Awhile back I overheard a conversation about blogs.  With a bit of disdain, a comment was made that blogs are generally: "too sappy, too self-serving, and too preachy." Naturally it caused a bit of introspection, as well as outward 'spection of my blogposts.  Yup.  Very often sappy.  Very often about me.  Very often about what I have learned.

In pondering this indirect comeuppance and fighting the urge to put my tail between my legs and slink away, I stopped short and exclaimed:  'What the heck?'

I considered the definition of a blog, which in literal terms is the shortened slang of "web log," which merely implies a log, or journal, of one's life that is kept on the world wide web for others, as they choose, to peek inside and read what I feel, what I think, and what I learn.

I often feel emotional about things.  We that choose to feel lead heightened lives of joy and sorrow.  Our emotions are those things which set us aside from the animal kingdom in general.  My highs and lows and in-betweens are the things which will endear me to my posterity, displaying my all-too-human side. By choice, I will include in my journal the things I feel.  You may or may not choose to feel with me.

Sappy?  check

I often think.  It is one of my best qualities.  It is how I approach life and the things that happen to me. I process events by thinking about them, analyzing them, comparing them.  And I prefer to think about the things that happen to me rather than analyzing and comparing the things that happen to you. I find it is much healthier than spending too much energy on studying someone else's life.

Self-serving?  check

As I spend a life of feeling and thinking, it invariably leads me to learning something.  Halleleujah!  Life has a purpose then!  I also find that the best conduit for me to learn is to write.  That is when inspiration comes.  That is when the pieces begin to fit together.  That is when the "aha! moments" come. For me, there is not a better place for me to taste the things I am learning than as I sit down and write about my life.  The things I am learning are not intended to be crammed down any potential readers' throats.  They are for my benefit, and for the benefit of my posterity that will hopefully read Grandma's blog.

Preachy? Sure. 

I have been amazed and gratified to find that others' occasionally check in to see what Ardith is thinking about today.  But consider this a disclaimer: It will probably be sappy, most certainly about my life, and hopefully will show that I am learning something.  Proceed with caution.