Me, me, me!

I have noticed recently that people think what they read on a blog entitles them to think they know a person and entitles them to comment, complain and pass judgement.

 A girlfriend has been subject to all kinds of comments and conjecture because people read her blog. Her blog is downright straight forward.  No beating around the bush and a welcome change from all the political correctness that invades our World.  This is why I read every post she puts up and why I tell her what I think of her posts directly to her face. 

I think I would like to put a couple of things straight here - blogs (in my eyes) are a kind of diary.  As a child, I used to write what I thought and what I felt about things happening in my life in a book and then hide it under my mattress.  I found that while I had mulled over the events in the process of jotting it down, I still had the jubilation, the anger, the anxiety, the joy and the humiliations inside me.  Now that I post blogs, I do the same things as I did in my journal - I just tamp it down a little because I know that I am not the only one seeing my words!  It does make one feel a little open and vulnerable!

I use my blog as a way of venting, sharing, celebrating and updating my family and friends who may be thousands of miles away.  I use it as a means of communication - I do not ask anyone to actually read it, but the fact that I have shared how I feel,  what we have done or the way I look at something satisfies an urge within me.  I use it as a log of the journey of my life - sharing how we grow and change as a family.

This is the crux of the matter - it is MINE.  it is how I feel and it is what affects, bothers, excites or angers ME.  My views, My forum. What I write is of little interest to the vast majority of the world.  I know that!

I am happy when people read and comment - and it has been interesting to see that people I don't even know comment when they have read about a concert or a play and they happened to be in the same auditorium.  It was also a little scary to think people who know nothing about me, who are strangers are reading about my thoughts and actions.  I am less happy when people who claim to have some sort of knowledge about me try to post anonymous comments that are negative and derogatory.  No-one asks them to come onto my personal space and share.  They are welcome to vanish into the larger abyss of unknown, unwanted opinion. They do not have to read what I write. They have not the courage of their convictions to allow a response to their malice, but feel mighty behind their cowardly anonymity.  Obviously this is how they deal with their life. Not my problem.  I know who and what I am.  I know that sometimes what I say and do comes across in a way I didn't mean it to or expect it to.  I am strong enough to apologise when I am wrong, and I am humble enough to know that I am not the bees knees.  Just a cog in a giant, giant wheel.

Today's post was going to be a sharing of my views on how some people always step up and offer to help.  How they more than offer... they follow through and DO whatever it takes, however long it takes to get the job done. I have been witnessing a couple of friends over the last couple of weeks, and their dedication to get things done.  Their kids may not even be involved, except that they go to our school, but they show their commitment and their community spirit by volunteering, by taking on tasks that everyone is happy to criticise or comment upon, but not willing to put their money where their mouth is - in other words, when push comes to shove they vanish into the woodwork! (Sorry too many cliches in one sentence!) Where are the people with the huge great opinions on other peoples' lives when the chips are down and their help or contribution is needed....?  We can but wonder!

But I got side-tracked!!