I have some thoughts inside me that need to be released or “unbottled.” These are thoughts tangential to my usual topic of being a grandmother – a “bubby” in Yiddish. Since I am a grandmother who writes, I find the theme of “writing about writing” to be quite intriguing. Recently, I read a brilliant post by one talented writer/blogger of that topic on her site. I agree with her premise, and I’d like to express my own bottled thoughts (soon to be unbottled) regarding her post.
In her essay, Ms. Bottledworder posits that writers are different in their sensitivities and insecurities from other professionals or tradesmen. For example, when a writer writes an essay, he throws his whole self into the process. Whether or not he writes about himself, he is allowing himself – his voice if you will – to be out there, to be vulnerable to others. Continue reading
Saw this somewhere on a Group that I follow:
“G-d doesn’t use an iPhone but He is my favorite contact.
He is not on Facebook but He is my best Friend.
He is not on Twitter but I follow Him nevertheless.
He doesn’t need internet yet I am connected to Him,
And although He has a massive communication system,
He never Un-Friends me, nor does He put me on hold.”
As I shared this on Facebook (the app that is on my blackberry), and then jumped at each of the “Likes” I got while browsing the internet, I decided I have a ways to go before integrating the essence of the above quote.
C’est la vie. It’s all about the process.
Whenever my husband bounces our grandsons on his knee, up/down; up/down; up/down amidst laughter, giggles and shouts of “More! More! More!” from my grandson, I feel such great joy!
I know that the ultimate climax for my grandson is the part where my husband holds his hands to support him, and my grandson throws his head backward, screaming “all fall down.”
Kids just love to “fall down!” What a scream for them. What a joy!