too much information?

Lately, I've been unable to blog.  It isn't a lack of time.  It isn't a lack of topics.  I just can't find the words.

I think the internet is awesome.  So much information right at my fingertips. 

Facebook?  Such a great place to keep an eye on people.

And the blogs.  What a great way to keep in touch with little to no effort.

Oh wait.  Maybe you see where this is going.

I like all of these new ways to communicate.  But there are flaws.

The internet gives me so much instant information.  It is as if I'm driving past accident scenes every time I look at a news site.  Headlines.  Brief glimpses.  Inaccurate.  And the more sensational, the better, apparently.  That is news today.

And Facebook.  Ah, Facebook.  My old friend.  People posting about anything and everything.  Others commenting, sometimes without giving it a second thought, but other times, apparently after giving a great deal of thought and research to their response.  I reluctantly joined.  Perhaps my reluctance was well founded.  Anyone can ask to be friends with anyone.  That seems reasonable, just like in kindergarten.  But that didn't work in kindergarten and I'm not sure it's working on Facebook.  Thanks to Facebook, you can now know for sure when others are talking about you behind your back.  You can go back and read comments you posted and realize that you may have not said exactly what you intended to say.  But all of your friends can now see it.

And blogs.  I love blogs.  I love reading about my friends and their friends and their friends.  But somehow, time flies by and I realize I haven't actually seen my friends, in person, for a long time.  And that feels, oh, lonely. 

Also, reading blogs has made me realize, in a way I never have before, that all of those stories on the news?  Those are real people.  People whose lives have been somehow altered forever, and often that change comes with tremendous pain.  Exposure on the news to so much tragedy seems to desensitize me to the suffering of others--yet, reading a blog, over time, feeling the daily pain of a mother who has lost a child, or a woman whose husband committed suicide, or a young couple whose child was born with serious illness, breaks my heart, over and over again.  I learn of the death of a friend's beloved husband and I find myself so incredibly sad for her loss, knowing that she will be living with that pain, learning to cope, hoping to heal, for a long, long time.

Sometimes it all feels so hopeless.  We will all suffer sometime.

Lately, the depth of that emotion makes it hard to get out of bed.  Hard to see the good.  Hard to enjoy the fun.  Well, that and all of the chaos that is life at work and life with my parents.  I could post all sorts of stories that would sound so funny, except those stories are part of the sadness I feel right now too.  Just like a little kitten or puppy, the older I get, the more my eyes open and see.

So how do I tuck all of that away neatly and focus on only things that are light and enjoyable to read?  Like wondering if the reason why I have a callous at the base of my right thumb is because I drink too much diet coke and I got the callous from screwing open the bottles?  Or the other day when Jr tossed a dish towel over Gus's head and Gus walked across the room and back and then to the door before bumping into it--all the while with the towel over his head--and we laughed ourselves silly because apparently our dog is so busy using his brain to breath that he couldn't figure out how to get out from under a dish towel?  Or I could post about yesterday when Jack and I got up early, visited my parents for a bit, went to the model airplane flying field near Utah Lake, where Stu joined us, and flew their planes and watched as dozens of guys flew their planes at the same time, filling the air with wings and buzzing and crashes and the oohs and ahs of the crowd.  After that, Jack and I drove to Jessie's house to see how it's holding up (okay), stopped at Taco Time (tacos and mexi-fries) and then headed to our cabin property to think and re-think that whole process.  Do we really want to build a cabin or two (the property is big enough for two, apparently) or is a cabin just another toy that we'll spend a bunch of money on and then never use like the theater room or the hot tub, or the go cart or the pool table or the motorcycles?  Or are those all things (along with a cabin) that even though we don't use them often, our kids enjoy them and will use them in the future, along with their kids and their kids?  Who knows?

So.  That's where I've been.  Physically and emotionally and bloggingly. 

This week holds great promise.  The Californians are in town for a few days (or will be soon), we'll all be together today for dinner--and by all I mean, all kids and grandkids--and then tomorrow is a morning lazing about followed by a trip to the zoo.  Tuesday is time at the local farm and more lazing and then the drummer's senior recital before he graduates from the University on Friday.  Wednesday is Jr's birthday so there's likely partying planned for that day and more because he deserves days and days of celebration. 

All of these things are good.  And lift me up.  And cause me to smile and have hope.  And there will be bacon and pancakes and waffles.  And have you noticed?  The warmth of the sun?  The flowers and fresh air and green stuff?  All back.  All so good.