, , , , ,

I was talking with a friend last night, who told me that she’s resurrecting her xanga.  She had stopped writing on it because she got tired of the meaningless trivia people put out there, and (I assume) didn’t want to fall into the same habits.  She said with this new attempt she wants to write more about deeper things, theology & stuff.

This conversation made me think about the things I usually post about, and whether I should be going deeper, being more serious, etc.  Usually my posts are pretty fluffy: (hopefully) amusing anecdotes and tidbits from the rather unusual life I lead.  Every once in a while I venture into deeper waters, but mostly I like the shallows.  I think part of this is that I don’t care to make the deepest parts of me available to whoever has access to an internet connection.  And then, I’ve seen too many blogs turn into high tech ways to slander and gossip about your best friends under the guise of sharing “how you honestly feel.”  (Sometimes the fastest way to destroy a friendship is to write honestly about it in a public forum!)  So I do try to protect my friends’ privacy, and to some extent, protect my own too.  Swing dancing may be causing me to think deep thoughts about the lead/follow nature of my relationship with God and how that relates to the Theology of the Body, but the whole world doesn’t need to know about it.  And probably doesn’t want to.  (If you’re part of the 2% that might, let me know and I’ll let you in.)

The other thing that occurred to me was that I don’t think anything is really trivial.  Sometimes we reveal more about ourselves, our passions, our desires, who we really are in an offhand remark or a casual conversation than in all the thought-out, self-consciously meaningful essays we could ever write.  The little things are how you really get to know someone: how they take their coffee (if they drink it at all), the things they keep in the back seat of their car, the way they treat their little sister, if they clear their own dishes when they get up from the table.  The best definition of integrity I ever came up with is that it’s a million tiny decisions all pointing the same way.  In the end the big stuff (big thoughts, big decisions) are the final result of all the little stuff that came before it.  I guess it’s the psychological/spiritual version of “Mind the pence and the pounds will mind themselves.”

And so, friends, a toast: To the little stuff… (and I do promise I’ll get back to it soon).