After many months of reading others' blog posts, I finally create one of my own. It's a bit daunting, really. The idea that these words go out around the world for anyone to read activates my perfectionism -- but that merely leads down the road to never writing or posting anything at all! So I alleviate my anxiety with the almost sure knowledge that few people will actually read the post. I'm reminded of the Blue Man Group piece which illustrates the proliferation of media sources leading to little overlapping exposure to any particular media message -- that is, when there are a myriad of media sources available, it's increasingly unlikely that you and I have had exposure to exactly the same media (particularly with increased "channel surfing"). So I write, but without any knowledge or surety of being read; ever the dilemma of our age.
With that sop to an introduction and the exorcism of my blogger anxiety, I can move on to more substantive material. Yesterday was full of weeding the garden, which is satisfying, but strikes me to be fundamentally similar to cleaning. I remember when I worked in food service, how frustrating it was to mop the floor and know that it would just need mopping again in a few hours or a day -- what was the point? Weeding has that same quality; one weeds and then two weeks later, one needs to weed again. While I admire the tenacity of the weeds themselves, I can't help but feel a combination of satisfaction and futility when I pull weeds. It feels great to get them out and see the cleaned beds, but I know they will be back and I'll just have to do it again. Maybe I can just view it as exercise -- after all, we go to the gym with the idea that we will have to do it again, and that rarely feels futile to me. It's all about the cognitive framing, I suppose.
With that said, I go back to revising my course materials for the summer classes which start Monday -- futile or satisfying? You decide! (I vote for satisfying, with some sense of non-futile repetition thrown in for good measure.)