I was remembering back to the fond days when this little blog started because a friend of mine in graduate school thought it would be fun to blog. It was on a platform called Vox, of all things, which was probably bought out or amped up to be the Vox we all now know as an actual news platform. Times we carefree back then before Facebook (I know, I’m ancient).
I was reminiscing because I look back at that time as the golden days of this blog, when it didn’t matter if you had a niche or branding or wanted to be an influencer. There were no rules and, more importantly, there were absolutely no expectations whatsoever.
I remember writing a blog about Starbucks. It didn’t matter if it had an angle. I just did it because. It felt so inconsequential.
And while this blog remains inconsequential, I was reminiscing because I find myself at yet another moment of redirection…and therefore, so must this blog redirect itself because it’s purpose in my life remains the same: to be a space on which I can plant whatever random thoughts for posterity. What can I say, I have a need to feel like I’m heard. I honestly, literally don’t care about actually being heard. It’s weird.
All of this to say, I’ve had an interesting couple of health-focused months and I need to turn this conversation here toward dealing with some of that. The way I process all of my experiences is through writing and reading them and when you’ve got major organ systems threatening failure, that’s what you want to discuss. The pressure (completely self-imposed) to conjure up weekly round-ups or force myself to think about popular culture has transitioned to, at once, something more urgent and much more relevant.
Health scares create a vacuum for any thoughts other than: What is my life right now? Am I fully living? What are my priorities? Where can I go from here?. Health scares require a reflection on our existence. Some choose to go deep within. Mine reflections are largely about the impact I want to have externally–on people I know, people I talk to, those with whom I have relationships.
And also, Oh shit…I better do something to reverse this course immediately with an urgency unparalleled (except for re-upping paid parking passes on Chicago city streets).
So that’s what I’m going to talk about now. Right here. Reluctantly, I’ve had to move the tent to a beach closer to the doctor’s office….but also prepare it for what may be, perhaps, a much bigger adventure than I expected to come my way.
All for the best, I say. Tents are meant to be mobile.
My Tent on the Beach 