Things have been a little wonky over here lately. Not in a bad way. More like “I’m trying to figure things out without getting discouraged” kind of way.
It’s no secret that the writing on the blog has been different. I’m working on a longer writing project and trying to save my creative energy for that. However, it’s leaving this space feeling a bit dead.
Try as I might to convince myself otherwise, the number of readers I have each week matters. Although this space is generally about practice and accountability for me, it’s nice to know that people read. It’s nice to know that my words matter.
But lately, readership has been low. Still, I post something each week, mostly as a practice of faith for myself. Without sounding self-deprecatory, I find myself wondering, “Does what I have to say matter?”
There’s More than Groceries at the Store
Our family goes to the grocery store (usually) once a week. Occasionally, we need to stop in for one or two things mid-week, but most of our shopping is done in one fell swoop.
Now that the kids are bigger, we often choose the smaller “race car cart” for our shopping. The basket doesn’t hold as many groceries, but it does hold both kids at once. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Late Sunday morning, our little family wanders up and down the aisles, choosing produce and applesauce, beans and pasta. One aisle we don’t frequent very often is bread.
I’m not a big bread eater. For a while, I was making my own, but I think that ship has sailed (at least for now).
My husband wishes we had bread in the house more often, but truthfully, it would probably go bad before we could eat it all. When we do go down the bread aisle, it’s a cut through en route to the checkout.
Permission in the Bread Aisle
Today, as I’m thinking about the status of the blog, I’m also thinking about the bread aisle. (I promise the two are related).
Most days, I wonder if I have anything worthwhile to say. Currently, the blog functions more as an accountability partner for me. I want to foster the habit of regular writing. But writing words is one thing. Writing words for someone else to read is another thing entirely.
People have been writing things down for a very long time. Surely all the things have already been said. After all, there is nothing new under the sun.
But then I remember the bread aisle. (I know I’m not the first person to make this analogy, but it hits home almost every time I go grocery shopping.) Walking down the immensely tall aisles of our local chain grocery store, I wander into the bread aisle. Having been overseas for so long, I find myself overwhelmed with so many choices. Shelves taller than me holding more brands and varieties than I could count.
Even with all the choices, the brands are basically doing the same things: white, wheat, rye, seven-grain, gluten-free. There are only so many options for bread. How different could one white bread recipe really be from another?
And yet, there are 15 different brands of white bread. And despite them all generally being the same, I, along with most people, have a brand preference. The bread aisle truly has something for everyone.
Staring at all the choices, I start to think – if there’s a place for another loaf of bread on these shelves, surely there is a space for me to share words on the internet.
You May Not Be For Everyone, But You Are for Someone
What I write doesn’t have to be for everybody. It won’t be for everybody. But it is for somebody.
The same is true for whatever lights you up. Your particular style of crocheting won’t appeal to everyone. The way you parent your children wouldn’t work with mine. I may not want to hang a painting by Van Gogh in my house, but lots of people do.
We all have different tastes, different needs, different ways of seeing the world—a glimpse of the divine in each of us. We are all multifaceted. So here’s your permission to do the thing that lights you up, in the way it lights you up. Even if no one reads it, perhaps one day the person who needs it will find it.
We never know how we, or our art, might be used.
