Age is measured by the speed at which one perceives time going by. It’s an inverse proportion. The older one gets, the faster time seems to speed past. By that measure, I’m very old.
It has been almost exactly a year since I started my blog. A year and 58 blog postings later, and I’m still here. The time in many ways has zoomed by. In the past year I’ve traveled to Florida by myself to see the last space shuttle liftoff; won a HarperCollins Top 5 Editor’s Desk Gold Medal (though tragically, no contract offer to date); traveled to Greece and Italy with my sister to see ancient wonders of the world; got robbed in Athens and slept on the airport floor in Rome; missed most of a day and entire evening in Venice; slept through an entire precious day in Florence.
Plus, I reconnected with old high school friends after decades of separation; saw my son off to adulthood with a real job and his own apartment; wished my daughter didn’t live a continent away; reread Moby-Dick; wrote a lot of poetry and an extra chapter to Memories of Glory; started a new novel titled Moses; joined Facebook; created a Facebook fanpage and Twitter account along with this blog; readied my house to sell. Lost some weight; bought new, smaller clothes and pretty jewelry. Drank many bottles of wine, recycled the corks.
And even more. Experienced great joy and unutterable despair. Felt proud of myself and questioned my existence. Hoped for my children’s happiness and felt powerless to control it. Tried to be a friend but got lost in the challenge. Wished for more riches while realizing how very privileged I am. Felt goodwill while struggling not to show my negative side. Planned for the future while recognizing that there is only today.
And it’s all happened so fast. A year is a short time, a damned short time. I am the same as I was last year, the one who felt silly writing a blog that no one might read, sending words out into the universe of the Internet. I still wonder if anyone reads my words. Well, I know that a few wonderful people do.
But maybe the vast majority of the hits on my page are mistakes. That’s a chance I’ll have to keep taking. I am not good at faith. Faith and I don’t get along. But in the case of my writing and my blog, I have to have faith that somehow, it’s worth the time. It’s worth the effort. It’s worth continuing on.