As I write more often than not these days, this blog seems to have atrophied a bit. It’s true; I’ve not been updating as much as I should; which is strange as I’ve hardly been lacking for things to write about of late.
But then, that’s my problem. I talk the talk about wanting to write more, to keep a blog going and to use it as an outlet for my creativity and thoughts, and to communicate better with my friends. But my urge to do it goes just as fast as life’s distractions get in the way (a sad tale which could be applied to far more lofty and important goals that blogging just as easily).
Talking to a friend last weekend though really made me think about this. I’m reading Stephen R Covey’s The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People at the moment and it talks in great deal about the second habit; beginning with the end in mind.
Basically, what it’s talking about is having a map in front of you, having a clear idea about where you’re heading and it has occurred to me that that’s one of the things I’m lacking; a plan of where I’m heading that I can trust and have confidence in.
Anyway, going back to the conversation, what we ended up talking about was that sought feeling of clarity, of seeing it all laid out in front of you and knowing what needs to be done. And, as often happens, the conversation moved on to talking about Fight Club, and specifically, the Raymond K Hessel scene.
It’s a difficult and violent scene that I never really got first time I watched the film and it never sat well with me since, but it makes more sense now, and in my more morbid moments I long for that moment of horrifying clarity. Because as far as clearing away the shit to get to what really matters goes, quite frankly, I’m fucking terrible at it.
Where this is all leading to, in a very roundabout sort of way, is plugging a blog written by a friend of mine who was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of weeks ago, the details of which I gained while I was having the aforementioned conversation down in Guildford. I’ll let her do the talking; her blog is infinitely more eloquent than mine, and is by turns riveting, witty and brutally frank. As I started reading I got a taste of what I’d been talking about. When I read the intimate thoughts of a friend who was going through her darkest hour and was still standing taller, cleverer, funnier, stronger, and with bigger balls than I’ll ever have, it all became clear, and all the shit, all my hangups and doubts, all of it, ceased to matter.
But if the trade-off for getting that moment of clarity is your friend going through what she’s been through, then that’s a fucking shitty bargain.
LL, you rock, seriously. In your bleakest times, you still piss on our chips.
Keep the blog coming. And get well soon.