The Struggle...

As of late I have been struggling with the whole idea of blogging. Not that there hasn’t been plenty to write about. My wife had her birthday, a couple of flood events, a friend visiting in Chiang Rai, some sightseeing, some great bike rides and resulting pictures, several rejections and changes in materials and colors, of deliveries for the house. Even got our license plates for the truck, which will mean a run on lottery tickets with all variations of the numbers there in.

Then what is my problem? So... if there is plenty to write about... maybe that is my problem. I guess I have been remembering the distain I once held for writing about life or reading about it instead of going out there and living life to the fullest. I’ve lost track of all the times people told me I should write a book about my experiences in Thailand. My reply was invariable that I was too busy living, moving forward, experiencing life, to look back at where I had been or what I had done. Selfishly I guess I felt it was my life and my experience, and I somehow owned it and didn’t want to share it with just anybody.

Now I find myself writing a blog and wondering why? I think we have established that I am not bored, with nothing else to do. I have wondered if it might be age related. Maybe I’m getting old and sensing that I am nearer the end of my life than the beginning. Could that lead me to want to remember and want to start recording things?

Perhaps I’m just trying out something new? Trying to keep up with the times and learn about this new blogging phenomenon. After all I have already learned how to use a computer, explored digital photography, created a website and now blogging seems to make sense, as the next thing to try.

Thought it might be, living off in the middle of nowhere, with no ex-pat companionship but that thought didn’t last long. Definitely not me!

Maybe I thought it would be a good way to share my life in a foreign land with my relatives and friends back home. But then again, would any of them be interested in reading it? If not them, then who? Would anybody want to read what I write? Anyone who had a life of their own should be out living it and not sitting around reading about mine.

Who does that leave? Maybe the dreamers who believe that one day they too will be living in a foreign land, speaking a foreign language and experiencing an exotic and romantic lifestyle. Most dreamers remain in the dream phase and only a few of them actually make it a reality. Don’t get me wrong, dreaming is not a bad thing. It can keep us going when things in the real world are not that great.

Maybe that leaves the new guy who just made the move and is wondering if he has made a mistake or not? Reality might not be living up to the dream expectations. Perhaps there is a fear that something was overlooked and that researching other’s experiences might give insight into what went wrong and how to get things back on track to fulfilling the dream.

In the end you watch the hit-counter role over and wonder if each number is a real person or just a search-engine crawling your site. Did the person actually read what you wrote or get bored and quickly click onto another page as people are wont to do on the internet? Why don’t they comment? Did they not like what you wrote? What was their response? What did they think or feel?

Then it struck me. Maybe the writing isn’t just, by me and about me, but also for me. Maybe like most things in life it is all about the process or the journey and not about the destination? Not about the final product and whether anyone reads it or not. But then why put it out there on the web in the first place?

Every possible answer begs another question. I seem to be full of questions today and short on answers. Who, what did they think, why? Maybe more importantly, who cares...does it even matter?