You know it. Of course you do. How often have we been told, that the key to happiness is ‘loving ourselves’.
But how, just how, can I love someone who blogs so close to Christmas when they are so not ready? How do I love someone who goes to the computer just to have a quick look then deceitfully leaves off Christmas baking, sewing, decorating, and wrapping to write? And yet she knows full well that all the great multitude of other citizens of cyber space are not shirking their responsibilities. They’re certainly not engaging in these kinds of diversions so close to Christmas.
And not only that, the person I am trying to love has no sense of trustworthiness despite her age of maturity. Instead of doing what needs to be done, she hangs out at the computer. Reveling in some kind of sick nostalgia. Convinced that the rattling of the keyboard is as soothing as a kettle humming on a wood-burning stove. Wiggling her toes with delight as she sips coffee and listens to traditional songs of Christmas in the background. Thinking she needs to be sitting at her window admiring the soft flakes falling. But most extreme of all, she has herself convinced that reading other’s blogs about parenting, children’s antics, unexpected happenings, and Christmas musings, is as much fun as opening gifts on Christmas morn. Maybe even more so because they are woven around real lives.
And furthermore, how can I love someone who insists on writing words without a plan? And then, because of that, where she is going with them is such a mystery to herself, she is tempted throughout the day, every day to leave off vital chores to write more in order to find out what is coming next. What’s worse, is when she is writing and reading blogs, she feels blessed and appreciative and content and all that stuff. The stuff she’s supposed to feel when I love her, which I don’t.