Peeping Thomasina

As many of you know, I participate in and follow many memes.  The challenges they present make for good opportunities to practice the craft of writing.

But, somewhat unexpectedly, they have also offered some other opportunities.  I have “met” some wonderful people here in Blogville, people I would call “friend” though we have never met, and likely never will.

What I find interesting is how blogging opens windows into all of our lives and personalities.  Through writing, whether it be fiction, poetry, or non-fiction, we learn about the jobs, children, homes, husbands, wives and partners, love lives, happiness and heartbreak of our fellow bloggers.  I know that in my own posts, I have expressed pride and joy, fear and anger (and yes, sometimes even rage), delight and disappointment, and a whole host of other emotions.

Over time, we can see progression, maturing and aging.  We suffer illnesses and tragedies, smile in joy and celebration together.  We watch as friends fall in love, have their hearts broken, move on, and find a new love.  We feel happiness when someone welcomes a new baby into a family and feel grief when someone lose a grandparent or parent.  We are by their sides as grown children leave to head out on their own, and when they come home again (for you readers who have not experienced this, know that they do come home again).

Perhaps this phenomenon is a direct result of how intimate writing is.  When we write, we often tap into our innermost selves.  We may write about things we would never introduce into normal conversation.   And in doing so, we give our readers a glimpse in our psychic windows.

It truly is like a small village of old.  The beauty of this little village of ours (which in my case spans 40 countries, and I know it is much larger for many of you) is how kind and supportive its residents are, for the most part.  Oh sure, every now and then, you meet that unhappy guy who snarls at you, but in nearly a year of posting, that has happened to me only once that I can remember.  In general, the warmth has been… well, heartwarming.

I love my village where the windows are open and the lights are on.  I’ve always been something of a peeping Thomasina.

***

Drop in to see me at my place across town, PattiKen and The Muses, which is decorated with a bit of short (really short) fiction, poetry and photography.  I’d love to see you.

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11 Responses to Peeping Thomasina

  1. tracyhsays says:

    This is truly how it is, Patti. Sometimes for me it feels like a group a kindhearted friends who are full of support and encouragement. I would have never grown my poetry to what it is today without the friendship of a few writers, poets, and friends (you being one of them) in this community. We should all be thankful for each other. Thank You for this lovely piece.
    Tracy H 🙂

  2. gospelwriter says:

    I love how my writing has grown in blogland – and meeting new “best” friends is a bonus I hadn’t expected. Surprising how warm the support feels, the caring, the cyber-hugs, whether expressed or wordless…

    Great blog!

  3. PattiKen says:

    Tracy and gospelwriter: <<>>

  4. Pattiken..loved what you wrote here..All the writings connect strangers and open up windows into their mind..what a feast for the eye and the mind..I am glad to be connected and reading you here..
    Have a gorgeous day!
    Suja

  5. ladynimue says:

    best said for one of the best phenomenon 🙂 awesome !!

  6. Jamie Dedes says:

    I love the blogospher for the same reasons. I also feel that as far as art and talent goes, it levels the playing field. I’m finding poets, artists, craftspeople whom under other circumstance would have been lost to me … It’s heartening … I like the dialogue that happens with some folks. It’s all a special gift, a special kind of joy.

    This post is well written and true. Thanks, Patti.

    • PattiKen says:

      Thank you, Jamie. I agree about the dialogue. It is so wonderful to get to “know” people from all over the world, and exchange ideas with them. Truly a special gift.

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