Why blog? Writing to be Understood

Romania.

To me it is a far flung place with snow, fur hats and serious looking people with brows knit in deep contemplation of aforementioned snow.

It could not be more far-flung from my tropical life of mangoes, watermelon-sunsets and ocean-swimming.

But last week someone from Romania read my blog.

Repeat.

Romania. I imagined them recumbent, sipping on a potato-based liquor, back-lit by the dying embers of a well-tended fire.

Somehow, my words had needled into a Romanian’s spare twenty minutes.

It was then that I knew I was hooked.

Hooked on blogging.

What I have always known, even before the Romanian read my post is that I wanted to blog.

I have wanted to blog before I knew what blogging was. Before blogging was invented. Hell, I wanted to blog before the internet was invented.

How is this possible you may ask?

Because I used to put notes in bottles.

Our family would camp by the ocean. It’s an Australian thing. (Just clarifying in case you’re the Romanian.)

During the long, hot days I would sit outside our orange tent and labour over inquisitive notes to strangers in exotic lands.

I’d plug them with tape then set them off to sea; watching their barnacled voyage into the horizon.

I imagined the recipient just as I imagined the Romanian.

They laughed at my jokes. They nodded emphatically. They ‘got’ me.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a reply button at the end of my note. But guess what?

There is now.

The internet is one big reply button. People leave notes in bottles all over the web. Every second. Every nanosecond. Every whatever-is-shorter-than a nanosecond.

The ‘collective’ make our sticky threads of thought a web. A world-wide-web.

My favourite line from Before Sunrise is when Julie Delpy’s character, who is slowly and exquisitely falling in love with Ethan Hawke’s character, says to him:

“I believe if there’s any kind of God it wouldn’t be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between.”

It’s the ‘space in between’ that humans have always wanted to fill with prose, art and music.

It’s a caveman’s drawings. It’s Michelangelo’s David. It’s a note in a bottle.

Just press publish. Space. Between. Filled.

So where are you right now? Perhaps you’re in Romania reclining with a vodka-shot and gazing at snow.

Hi there. Nice to meet you.

Thanks for picking up my note in a bottle. I knew someone would.

This isn't Romania, it's a snap that I took in Arctic Canada. But when I think of Romanians, I see this.

This isn’t Romania, it’s a snap that I took in Arctic Canada. But when I think of Romanians, I see this.

6 Comments on “Why blog? Writing to be Understood

  1. I blogged before I knew what blogging was! I also feel the word tribe is over-used, but the internet is my home more than anywhere I’ve been.

  2. Wow Brooke, what amazing insight!!!

    I LOVE LOVE LOVE “this dewy galactic delicacy”… and you are SO right, the internet can make us feel MORE connected with each other, with the world, with ourselves… if we spend some time appreciating it for what it is. Some of my favourite times are autumn morning walks up on the ridge near where i live in canberra. It’s always chilly, and sometimes frosty, but those are the mornings when if you overcome the urge to snuggle deeper into the doona, you feel the warmth of your blood surging through you like glowing embers being fanned by your breath as you pump your legs up the hill. At the top, where the birds cheerily greet the day and the roos are already foraging, i relish the sight of lacy, glistening threads lovingly woven by busy night time spinners. At any other time of the day they wouldn’t catch my eye like that, but if I am there as the sun peeks over the distant hills and filters through dew drops and golden threads … there is a magic connection between the fire in my belly and the radiance of the sun, as if i have been plugged in to Life and am charging myself up.

    So as i sit here in my favourite and much-frequented cafe trying to delay my next coffee hit for as long as i can, i am inspired not only to appreciate the wonder of the WWW, but to feed back into the grid of life some of the beautiful and abundant energy flowing from my heart, my mind, my experience… We are creatures of connection – from the infinitesimal atomic and cellular levels to the infinitely worldy or – let’s get even more outrageous – Galactic… Universal… levels. Without connection, we die… and even then we continue to be a part of something. Having a choice in how we connect and how we contribute is a gift. It is a uniquely human trait.

    Thanks to you, today i chose to leave my own mark on your note and refloat the bottle 🙂

    • Tracy, what a beautiful response! It has filled my heart with joy! Such a gorgeous description of your early morning!

      Thank you! And thank you for picking up my bottle!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: