REALLY

I am a very purposeful person.  Sometimes pragmatic, always relentless, extremely deliberate, wide open hearted and constantly desiring rich meaning in all areas of my life.  Being that way sometimes delivers itself in great irreverence.  Sometimes in deep connection to others.  But always does it cause me to be present in everything I do.  Really present.  Which has led me once again to those moments of self evaluation.  Those thoughts of the value of writing - why I do it, does it mean anything to anyone, is it purposeful, what do I really have to say that anyone would care to really hear, what do people want to hear, what is my style, is this blog of any value, can I really write in a way that meets anyone anywhere once in awhile-with regularity-or never. Writing is a very one sided experience.  There is no audience interaction.  Silence is the usual response from a reader.  I know I have been guilty of reading things over the years that have greatly impacted me but the author had no clue how powerful the words were in my life.  I took the words as a gift and never let the author know of their sway or influence in my heart, mind, spirit or life.  I suppose because of my way of purpose living it drips into my evaluation of writing.  I want purpose there too.  I don't want to write an article, a book, a blog that is nothingness (oh not in subject matter but in how it connects to the reader).  I want to have a reader feel what I feel, see what I see, connect to something in my life that makes them know they are normal, helps them release the crazies.  I want to take the reader on a mental laughing journey - a break from the hard part of life.  I want the reader to experience camaraderie in the human journey, the power of sarcasm, the magic of word pictures, the frailty of the human condition, the process of hope, the magnifying glass of humor.  Am I really doing that?  Really.