here i be.

i wonder if addiction to this screen staunches creative flow.

the tool itself is an amazing gift, but i seem to find so many things for which i think i need a tool.

not to mention the crap for which i really do, like writing to you.

i just opened this airbook and instead of immediately typing the two lines that'd popped into my head, i got distracted on 3-5 other things. (see, i can't even remember how many others!)
if i'd taken up pen and paper, those lines would be found,
that is to say, not lost.

ah, well. we lose things every day.

but i'm serious about being addicted to my computer. i open it up many more times a day than is necessary. don't we all? concentration scatters on impact. screen distraction is something i've practically come to rely upon.

in my head i just heard my dear friend tiff say, "good lord, martha kay, must you make it such an issue of moral fortitude?"

{pausing here to laugh a bit longer}

she's right, of course. my own ridiculousness is part of what makes it hard to write this darn blog. i seem to be able to only write one day at a time; each day is equally and uniquely ridiculous and now i have to tell you about it, because apparently that is what i signed up to do. so i wonder aloud about things like technology addiction and, i don't know, the downturn of bee colonies. important issues, mind you. but i'd rather not become the eternal drone. someday i'll post a blog that talks more about the subject at hand than about my moaning efforts to write it. maybe.

what am i trying to do here?

i'm trying to write. and to pray. to care for myself and my cat,
to believe this will eventually serve others, somehow.
that's about it.

which is essentially the opposite of what tiff, and plenty of other mothers, are trying to do. let's face it, what are they not trying to do? their lives are so full of all-of-it and every-one, there's hardly time to go to the loo, much less ponder it as a bowl of void, sucking creative energy away from you.

yes, that's a literal metaphor i tossed out recently during spiritual direction, i cringe to confess. do you think i'm not a wee bit sheepish to reveal i spend serious time talking about the toilet bowl as a way to understand myself, God and everything in between? perhaps this qualifies as an example of why tiff sent this indiegogo message earlier today:

You are crazier than a beehive full of bats, 
but I love you and support you 
and encourage you and most of all, 
MISS YOU! 

Hugs from the Fin Fam xx

(i really hope I'm not chastised for publishing this dear love note without asking.)

so there it is. a beehive full of bats. that's me...
what about you?
what makes you that crazy?
let me know.

i'll get back to you on the toilet metaphor; it's a good one.