I remember my first day of Philosophy 101, when my professor earnestly asked our class, “If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound?” I didn’t have the answer I was sure he wanted, so I kept quiet. I wanted to give him the right answer, but my answer didn’t feel right enough. Or, I might not have answered because I’m such a concrete a thinker I only like answering answer yes or no instead of conjuring up original responses to abstract philosophic musings. Did my not commenting that day invalidate his question?
If I write a blog and no one comments, are my words worth writing? Are they invalid?
Are my words invalid if you don’t talk back to me when you read my musings on daughter-missing, air conditioning leaks, migraines, dieting, or petty hatreds? If I expect a response, am I asking more of you than I was able to give forty-two years ago?
Are you asking the computer screen (if you like talking to it like I do) why I continue to publicly philosophize about these rather random thoughts? Are you wondering why I keep exposing my words to what I like to think of as you, my amorphous, blogospheric audience – even after you remain silent? Can my blog be considered worthy if almost no one comments?
Oh dear. I’ve gone and replicated my professor’s class, filled with a sea of invisible, silent me’s, haven’t I? By trying to answer these new-age questions, I’ve turned myself back into that nineteen year-old college student self, that stranger in a strange land. Yep. I have officially morphed out of myself, back into someone who continues to have trouble re-imagining the bigger picture (the forest for the trees).
Therefore, I’ve decided to change course and answer my questions.
Yes, writing my blog is a worthwhile activity, even if no one responds. Maybe because these days I’ve become somewhat deaf, I am no longer able to hear trees falling in either forests or my back yard (let alone actors talking in movies or on TV shows, like Mad Men, my current favorite).
Now that I’ve finally opened my mouth and talked…or, to be more accurate, written back, I would like to imagine that my uber-edited, unresponded-to paragraphs are ultimately making a teeny, tiny bit of difference, responded to or not.
Class – what do you think?
8 comments:
My comments never come through - but I faithfully read you and love your blog.
janet
Hooray - you finally posted a comment. Thanks for being a faithful follower - and friend.
I read it....Hopefully I count.
You most certainly do, my schmoopy pie. Thanks for reading (and responding).
it's definitely worth writing even if no one reads it, although i'm sure people read your stuff - you're quite a good writer! blog is like a diary - you pour out your feelings/thoughts/ to feel better or to learn more about yourself thru writings - kinda like a therapy (without drug companies benefiting from it).
5:18 am??? Sharron, it's a bit too early to check comments on your blog. :)
Hmm - equating my blog with therapy (minus drug company involvement) - verrrry interesting. Dr. Freud, move over!
Sharron: I am truly glad you are doing this blog, and I think that sometimes the tree does fall in the forest and you aren't aware it is making a sound. I feel the same way on my Facebook page sometimes. And also, now that I am retired, I once in a while hear from someone who remembered something I said long ago and it did make an impact even though at the time there was no communication about it. Also--I think, at least for me, that I am way too busy and it doesn't seem to be abating at retirement! My friend Laura just sent me two draft book chapters to comment on, and I am a week late in doing it and feel awful. The world just seems way too fast and compressed . . . Cheers, Barbara
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