I’d like to comment on your blogs but usually don’t.
The most I manage is a drive by like or three.
Likes are nice enough to receive, but they don’t tell you much. What I liked or why. Maybe they serve as an awkward stranger’s encouragement.
Sometimes you share a thought I’ve never thought – and I am strangely inarticulate. To comment seems awkward and intrusive. It is about you, after all, and not I.
Sometimes I’m charmed by your excitement. People post about things that interest them – and there’s something novel, almost poignant, about enthusiasm. In a frequently stale world, it is pleasing to see people involved or passionate or excited or enthused about things for their own sakes. Not for how they look or how they make them look.
Sometimes I see or hear a piece of myself – my kind. I lived most of life believing there were no others of my kind. So when I encounter that peculiar commonality – you have felt what I have felt, have thought what I have thought – I’m drawn up short. There is nothing really to say. I mean, I could tell you, maybe, that you are not alone. At least for an instant. But I seriously doubt that would help anything.
Sometimes I just ache. When I read a poem or story or thought, or even when I hear a song, that for some reason passes all my guards. It holds me. “The mariner hath his will.” That might be skill, but I know from long experience that for me to try to put that into words always falls flat. It comes off as flattery or insincerity or irrelevance or … I don’t really know what, except that it is not what I intend.
I may just be unfriendly and anti-social – I’ve been called worse things … I don’t comment because I don’t have much to say, or because I don’t know how to say what I mean. But know I’d sometimes like to.
When we would hesitate or had an embarrassing moment, my mom used to say, “You’ll never see these people again.” That would be one way to think about it–when you are online and fairly anonymous, you have very little to risk, and much to gain–such as a real connection. You reap what you sow, you get back what you put into it, what do you have to lose? Nothing, really. Honestly, no one is judging you. They are all just delighted that someone has taken the time and trouble to leave a comment.
I have been surprised at the connections I have made through blogging, but that can only happen when you comment. No subtle body language, no shy smiles–you have to put yourself out just a little bit. I know you can do it, because I remember a very sweet comment from you. It was a long time ago, but it gave me a better idea of who you were. Good luck. Remember, you’ll never see these people again…unless you want to.
You’re right, no doubt. It isn’t so much intimidation or embarrassment, I think. It is more that several things leave me inarticulate. Still – I shall take heed of your advice and comment more boldly.