Wednesday, August 15, 2007

yeah, what she said...

I read a lot of blogs. I started doing this over a year ago and now I am hooked. Morning coffee, thirty some odd blogs to read and I get on with my day. One of the newest blogs I have gotten hooked on has an amazing author who is undergoing chemo for IBC and she describes how what I call my blog 'therapy' is like in better words than I ever could, here is a snippet.

I’ve found a community.

I’m amazed and overwhelmed at the depth of this community, as I find new blogs every day (or you find me) that blow me away with their wisdom, their humor, their insights into the minutae of daily life that reveal our innermost selves. I feel as if I’ve stepped through the looking glass and found a treasure trove (to mix my metaphors) of womenfolk waiting, blogging, each of us at our own computers and during our own children’s naptime, or respite from housework, or spare moment at the office, to discuss, to banter, to reminisce, and to offer a hug when it is needed most.

It’s hard to explain my affection for blogging and blogfriends to those not intimately familiar with it, but I think it goes something like this.

I’ve always been sure to have a metaphorical and physical space for my own work. A place where I felt comfortable spreading out, reading, writing, and leaving things on the table when I’m done. The Room of One’s Own that Virginia Woolf described has been critical to my thinking and writing throughout the years.

But blogging. Blogging is even better. Blogging is the window in the room.

It’s as if one day last August I walked into my room, turned on the lamp, and suddenly noticed the window on the far wall, where none had been before. When I opened the curtains, the room was flooded with light and warmth, and I could hear a chorus of voices spilling through. I looked out, and discovered an amazing view — not the restful mountains or the popular beach — but a courtyard, filled with children of all ages, laughing, playing, crying, inventing, growing up together, and a sea of other windows — moms — each in a room of their own, writing their own lives, but pausing intermittently to check on the children and to be inspired by them and the women who love them. The windows are close enough that we can call to each other on the spring breezes when we are stuck, when we have something to celebrate, when we have something to mourn.

And it’s a beautiful way to live.


go see her full post, titled "Internet Vacation" at Toddler Planet
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