For quite some time, I’ve been toying with the idea of writing a blog but have been unable to pull the trigger because I was never sure what I could/should/would want to blog about. Would it be a travelogue, one of many such websites floating around written by people like me (accidentally privileged) where I shared copious amounts of exotic pictures featuring interesting foods, awesome vistas, and “locals” doing “authentic” things? Or maybe it could be a DIY, how-to, build-something-meaningful-in-8-simple-steps kind of project? Perhaps I could take up an interest in pottery and showcase my talent creating bowls shaped like spoons shaped like odd lumps of clay? What about a cute, giggly, flippant-yet-still-empowering series of essays on being an independent housewife?
The problem was there seemed to be too many subjects to write about. Social issues; travels; random thoughts on manifestations of human culture; where we are headed; where we are; where we’ve been; experiences I’ve had; problems I’ve overcome; problems I’ve convinced myself I’ve overcome but have only masked with drugs and alcohol; ideas on kindness and compassion and working to be a better person; seemingly necessary changes to insure our survival; hobbies; love; happy thoughts; sad thoughts; weird-but-still-my-own thoughts; things that make me laugh; vivid and in-depth personal information about ailments I and many people suffer from but no one talks about; and on and on and on. How could I ever choose just one topic?
The days passed. The confusion continued. It was a rainy morning in Yellowstone and I was sitting on a primitive toilet in Slough Creek Campground. I was listening to the rain patter on the tin roof, wondering what I would do if a grizzly bear suddenly burst in and commenced to eat me. Could I react quickly enough to jump into the yawning shithole below? Did grizzly bears understand reason? What if I pretended to be a grizzly and together my new friend and I terrorized our sleeping camp? Would I go so far as to eat a fellow human’s intestines to save myself?
And then it came to me. I didn’t have to choose only one idea for a blog. My thoughts, my beliefs, my experiences: those could be subjects. I didn’t have to limit myself to Top 10 lists of instantaneous ways to make your life better and your neighbors jealous. In fact, as with all things (excepting you and some of your friends, gravity. Fuck you!), the only thing limiting myself was me. As long as I was amenable to not being agreed with (and this is the root issue: a fear of not being accepted), I could strike out at will in whatever direction I saw fit, no rhyme or reason needed, no signpost or good judgment heeded.
Fast forward three months. I’m sitting on a train in Japan next to a wizened Chinese man nodding off to sleep, his bare thigh flush with my bare thigh (our shorts are pulled up…we’re not pantsless). The sun is flirting with the clouds and my seatmate’s head slumps towards my shoulder. All signs read the same: it’s time to begin.
Welcome to the Belle Tier Press blog!