Thursday, May 1, 2014

To my critic.

I wrote a blog the other day. And it clearly didn't sit well with someone.

I'm not sure who. Because they only posted anonymously to me.

Which makes it a tiny bit hard to straighten out--you know, since it was anonymous and all.

Donthcha think?

I am just going to do a bit of clarifying here.

I want to clarify to you, all my friends, what my blog is.  My blog is just about my feelings. What i am thinking.  What i want to express at the very moment. Sometimes i use it to process, for myself. Sometimes i write to laugh. To understand. And to lighten up.

My last post--about the Jews--was not intended to offend anyone.

But like everything, someone managed to find offense.

And that somebody choose to leave an anonymous comment on my blog.  Although they later deleted it. The email still came to me with their words.  Their critiques of my writings and their defense of their mother, who was clearly a working mom.

And i have a few things to say about that comment.

I'll use the example of the sandbur. We have lots of these in East Bethel and deal with them all Summer.

And ain't nobody like the sandburs.

You know how when you grab a ball and a sandbur is on that ball, it pricks your finger and it hurts, right?

But then you pull it out and go about your business as usual. 'Cause its not the end of the world to get a sandbur in your finger.

And then later that night, you go to make dinner and you grab a knife and you notice your finger--it still hurts.

But you can't really do anything about it, cause you already pulled out the sandbur.

So you continue on.

And then that next day, you go to write a note to your kids teacher and you find that when you pick up a pencil--it hurts again.  Your finger tip is sore.

But you forget about it, because you can do nothing about it, the damage was done. You can't undo the sandbur prick.

Even after the actual source of your pain is removed.......the hurt can linger.

So, lets just say that my little critic was a sandbur---a prick, if you will.

And their words probably came to them quickly as they made the conscious effort to write on my blog.  It wasn't a big deal to them, i assume.

But the affects of their words, although deleted, lingered.

And i really would love to talk about that, to explain my words to them and to hear what they thought but unfortunately, a conversation will never be held since they posted it anonymously.

Fortunately, though, I do think i know who this person is.

I write my blog today, as always, with only my opinions in it.  Never have i had hard facts about much of what i've said.

You know, I absolutely love a good book, I like to talk through every twist and turn. I like to look deeper, find the true message they are trying to send. I enjoy how a movie can transport you to a different place and time. I think music has meaning and paints beautiful pictures. I appreciate art and every aspect of it all. Their talent is not lost on me. Not one bit. And I  long, with all of my heart, to hold a candle stick to anything good. I would give anything to create something beautiful. Something that touches others. Something that brings them joy. Transports them. Makes them think. Makes them smile. Even laugh. To evoke emotion. But you know what? Even though i can't compete with so many other people, even though i am not a scholar--i am still going to write. Because i am okay with not being the best. It doesn't bother me. I'm okay with just being.... okay. Some posts work, and some don't. I know that. You don't have to tell me. Because i already know and i am just okay with that.

Because it is fun, it fills my soul, it puts words to my feelings.  It makes me happy.

My blog about the little Jewish boy who longed for his mothers touch-- broke my heart.  And i wanted to remind myself--and any one of the 6 people that read this--the value of being a Mom.

I didn't say a "stay-at-home mom" and i didn't say a "working mom".  'Cause we are all one in the same.

That post was never an attack on the working woman.

For heavens sake, I am so totally over this stay-at-home vs. working Mom thing!!!

I have so many beautiful friends who are working moms and who are amazing. And i know so many awesome stay at home moms that do a great job.  Any shortcoming of a Mother is in their own behavior or personality. Not their job title.  You can be a crappy stay at home mom or a crappy working mom. That all on you. So this invisible war--i am no part of.  I've made my mistake by stating my big opinions on the issue long ago and i hurt someone i cared about. And then i learned from my mistake. I don't know why we can't just ban together, as women. This crazy divide about who's insulting whom or who works harder than the other. I'm not in it. I won't be.We shouldn't do it to each other.

I speak passionately about two things. My love for my kids. And the power of Jesus Christ.  I'll always go down fighting for these two things. But please don't misunderstand that when i speak of loving my kids and giving them my heart, i'm not speaking only as a stay-at-home mother.

My blog was about MOTHERS. Every kind. Whether you get 19 hours with your kids a day or 30 minutes. The point was, MAKE THOSE MOMENTS COUNT!!

So to my anonymous critic, who felt the need to assure me of their mothers love and affection then and now (all while she climbed the corporate ladder). Good for you. I'm glad she loved you. No one ever implied she didn't.

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that blog wasn't about you.

But my guess is that maybe you think lots of things in life are about you? So instead of seeing the heartbreaking point of a child being torn from his mother and longing for her tender touch, you chose to defend an invisible attack.

And not only defend it, but you chose to insult me in the process.  I typed a word wrong. It was spelled incorrectly and you, in all of your splendor, would never do such a dunce-like thing. My spelling offended you. It must have, since you thought it would be better to point out my stupidity than to overlook it. I mean, I understand, i too, was concerned about my lack of word finding skills and the sudden difficulty that i had spelling--so i had an MRI done last year. Its something that i worry about on my own. But thank you for pointing that out to me.

And like that prick i talked about earlier.  That is the part of your comment that still stings just a tiny bit.

Because, you see, i have never claimed to know it all. In fact, if you know me, you know i can't seem to get anything right. And it really sucks. But i am aware of it.

Your poisonous little prick really has had a lasting affect. Whether you intended it to or not.

I find such frustration and weakness in the voice of the Internet. The satisfaction people get in saying hurtful things and then hitting "send" and letting cyberspace do the rest of the dirty work. Never do we take ownership for our words anymore. We don't even sign our names, for petes sake.  These bullish people who feel the need to respond to everything out there and yet never stay long enough, or are brave enough, to say things to each others faces?  They lack empathy. We face a world void of empathy because we never get to truly see how our words can make other people feel.  We don't see the pain, or the momentary wince, that warns us of our words effect and teaches us to be more careful with our tongue. For we are all human. And no one is perfect.

The buggar is, we all have a weak spot in life. A place of vulnerability.  Something we don't want anyone to know about--for fear they may attack.  And you know what, dear critic? Somehow you managed, perfectly, to find mine.

How wonderful for you.

But i won't linger here long. Soon i will forget the whole thing.

It is only fresh in my mind today. And, you know what happens when i think, well darnit if i don't end up typing about it.

I'm sorry that you were unintentionally offended by my words after you misinterpreted them. I thought i had clarified that part in my last blog. Maybe you missed it.

Now if you'll escuce me, i'm gunna go and warch my chikens play in da wadder. Cause us dummies, we like ta look at da chikens.







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