helium filled

When I write, I have a great amount of trouble editing myself. In fact, I don’t work on drafts and polish anything. I don’t plan what I am going to say. I usually have an inkling, but it is normally just a case of going wherever my fingers take me. This process can lead to interesting thoughts when something is on the mind, but in times like these, the general level of stressful and hour-gobbling activity leaves me sitting in my chair - mouth agape, stream of drool dribbling down the edge of my chin – with barely the energy to even read other blogs (let alone comment on them or write anything for mine).

It’s a funny thing, blogging. The longer it has been since you have done it, the easier it is to ignore the fact that you want to do it.

While sanding walls (and painting, etc.), it occurred to me that need is a mystical beast. In the era of first love, the sheer headiness of being needed by someone else can float us several inches off the ground through every waking moment. Entering the serious relationships that come with maturity, the warm-belly tingles of being needed serve as affirmation.

Why is there always a flip side to every coin?

I remember reading years ago (though I don’t remember where) that very often, the very thing which attracts us most to a mate is often also the source of our greatest consternation. I believe I have expounded on the dual-sided leadership/stubbornness gene in the past.

But need.

The joy of holding a newborn baby who is so utterly dependent on my care? The thrill of acceptance that comes from feeling a toddler's arms wrapped around me in the need of mommy protection? The bedazzling wonder that is a teenager seeking counsel (or simply a loving ear)?

Bliss.

The unfed masses? The whining beasts? The able-bodied residents somehow incapable of caring for their basest of needs alone? The single-minded who can walk right past said able-bodied in order to find the drywall-dust encrusted mother for the all-important juice replenishing ceremony?

Not exactly bliss.

Hold that thought, I have more laundry to do….

Dear God, help me hold the Bliss before the mind’s eye.