Yes, I have 10 drafts sitting here in the abyss of my blogger account. That's what I have to show for blogging in 2013. The number of unpublished posts says more about me than the number I actually posted, I think.
Some posts got lost in the fray of coming up with new things to write about. And at this point they're just not important anymore.
Some posts aren't time sensitive, meaning they'll be published some day in the hopefully not too distant future.
Some posts were too time sensitive. I didn't finish them within a week of the event happening so they probably won't see the light of day. At this point I don't remember enough details to really do the events justice; I mean, I remember how I felt on those days but it's hard to put those feelings into words. Those things are best left as memories for me alone.
Some posts just became too hard to finish. Even looking back at one now, far-removed from the day I started writing it and the circumstances that provoked it, I wouldn't be able to finish it. And not for lack of words to say what I want to say; I still have those words.
In a sense, I'm glad a number of blog posts were never posted and that I blogged very little about life in the ending months of 2013. It means I was busy living life and not just recording it for people to read online. While I do believe that if life is worth living, it's also worth recording, there are also some moments that just need to be experienced. (Don't worry, the big events were still written down in my personal Moleskine journal)
On New Year's Eve, Stacy, Becca and I went to the beach, sat in the sand, wrote down things we wanted to let go of from 2013 and then burned those pieces of paper. My first two things burned I kept secret; they each burned something secret as well. All the rest we shared with each other out loud. Once it passed midnight, we then burned our hopes/dreams for the new year. They shared all of theirs and all four of mine were shared, and yes, there were only four.
But here's the thing: I won't be sharing any of those four things with anyone again. Those two pieces of paper I burned for myself alone and the four pieces of paper I shared and burned and the words on all of them are for the three of us alone in those minutes after the clock struck midnight. So yes, I'm sharing that overall experience here in this post but the actual experience of burning those hard times and those dreams isn't something to be recorded.
So here's to 2014, a year in which I hope to balance the living and the recording. And maybe I'll have even more unfinished blog posts to look back on.
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