One I liked was an online writers’ forum. My goodness they were a rowdy bunch! Particularly on their politics track. I was, however, somewhat tantalized by their straightforward, "tell it like it is," written combat.
As long as I watched from the sidelines I even found it rather entertaining at times. I needed something a bit more sedate however. Or, I thought, at least a forum more oriented toward deliberate peace-building. So next I visited one of the links I had discovered, using Google. One of almost 2,000,000 blogs having the keywords – small “zones of peace.”
This one gave me a temporary feeling of “fitting in” and an enhanced sense of participating in internet endeavors of a more worthy nature. Discovering this venue, I even went so far as to offer up my article, “The Middle East Crisis In My Backyard.” This brought me some new connections as I spread my own particular point of view further.
At some point, I promise, it will become clear to you, my blog visitors, why this subject and its related incidents have become so much a part of me. (In the process, I may even come to understand it more fully myself.)
Nonetheless, my newfound yearning for internet connection was not yet sated so I explored further. This time landing myself on a website related to my eye disease, keratoconus, offering posting opportunities as did my writers’ forum. Now, having been both initiated as well as cautioned by my experiences on the writers’ forum, I observed what appeared to be proper conduct in this new domain, eventually taking a few risks of self-disclosure there.
Soon I had gone so far as to publicly acknowledge (I shudder to imagine what “worldwide web” means) that I had, indeed, experienced the worst case scenario from my eye disease, which, of course, would mean to be blind. And, that not only had I physically recovered from the ordeal but in surmounting the challenge I had transformed my life. Thanks, beyond words, to medical science and the skill of my opthomologist. “Sounds like an amazing story,” one response message had noted. “Would you be willing to tell us your story?”
Oops. I had invited that hadn't I? The answer had to be “yes" but (an upsurge from my Beloved, but resistant "Dark Side Warrior" spoke up. "Oh dear," he/she said, "Now we are really in for it!” (Murat and other wise Elders, strongly oppose the “but” word. But, arguably I hold a somewhat different view, believing that my Dark Side can be my friend, if I allow it. Thus his/her words should not be taken too lightly. Subject for another time.)
"I am ready," but -- this is scary -- as well as liberating. And fun, so far. The sky has not yet fallen in as Chicken Little fears. But -- "I’m going to do it anyway.” I am going to tell my story bit by bit -- as completely as seems appropriate for the internet in ways that do not overwhelm you and definitely not me. Take off the 1,000 masks that shield me from genuine connection -- and -- my Wholeness.
Tell my story. That's what "storytellers" do!
Anastasia
From the mountains where I am presently being successful at building a small "zone of peace" with the ants who have been attacking my hummingbird feeder.
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