A fellow blogger commented about the uncomplicated nature of my life today, and I couldn’t help smiling. My life appears uncomplicated, because that’s how I write about it. I suppose compared to many, my life is uncomplicated though. I’m wondering what qualifies as complicated now though.

In the blog, I am me – that’s my real name in the browser address bar, and in the title at the top of the page. Sure, I’ve experimented with pen names and pseudonyms in the past, but I always end up returning to “me”. I’m not clever or skillful enough to write through somebody else’s eyes – or at least that’s what I like to tell myself while qualifying why I’ve still not knuckled down and started writing that novel.

There’s a lot about real life that I don’t share on the blog. Nothing about work. Nothing really about the kids lives any more – their lives became their own quite some time ago. I will admit to grimacing when I see other parents splash their children’s lives all over social media. Some seem to live through their children, and some seem to use their children as a platform. It’s all very strange.

So what does this place end up being? A journal. A simple, uncomplicated journal of the days of my life. I often worry that the little things don’t add up to very much, but continue writing anyway, because what else am I going to do? Perhaps choosing to be “just me” is partly driven by laziness. I don’t have to craft deep posts – I just record. I suppose the blog is uncomplicated in that regard.

Seventeen years. This is the seventeenth year that I’ve been emptying my head into the keyboard. There were a couple of years before that, and I recently discovered a little of them on a ZIP disk attached to the iMac. One day I’ll fish them from the abyss and wince at my long forgotten words.

3 thoughts on “Uncomplicated

  1. Seventeen years! I thought I’d been kicking around the blogosphere for a long time. But you’ve got my eight years beat. It’s been an interesting eight years–not that you could tell from the blog. But I’ve reinvented myself…or rather, I’ve become much more of myself in that time. It’s interestting sometimes to revisit old posts. There I am…still me. I can only wonder if I’ll be blogging eight years from now. For you, seventeen years represents wholesale changes in you life–nearly your entire “kids” era. I cannot imagine.


  2. A filtered journal is a relief, I suppose, compared to the somewhat ‘heavy’ nature of human life at the moment. I do miss your wistful imaginative posts, though, Jonathan. And the ones where you’d wonder through random streets and paint them beautifully for us. They were wonderful. 🙂 x

    Liked by 1 person

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