What ARE you going to do with me?

Okay -- so two full weeks have passed since I last blogged.

I'm not even going to apologize this time.

I think we all just need to get a grip and realize that this may be how it's going to be -- I'll post a bunch, then there will be a hiatus, then I'll post a bunch. If you want to dispense with periodically checking my blog, only to find that I haven't posted since you last checked -- look to the left sidebar and join the Google group that will email stuff directly to your inbox, or put me on your RSS feed. If you actually enjoy the suspense of seeing whether I've blogged or not, just keep checking.

Now, non-apologies aside, let me get on with it.

A few weeks back, in response to my post on PLOTS, "knowm" wrote: "Now may I ask: how can 'we' contribute? We're asking for suggestions. What do you want from your readers?"

I realize that "knowm" may not speak for all my readers, but I also entertain the possibility that KNOWM is an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-present manifestation of All-That-Is . . . . I'm loathe to ignore that possibility -- AND to disregard the opportunity that knowm has put forward.

That said, I really had to ponder this one: What DO I want from my readers?

It's kind of like the genie -- if I had just one (or better yet, three) wishes, what would I ask for? I had to think long and hard about this, what with the cautionary tales I've heard in the tag-lines of various jokes ("I guess she thought I asked for a twelve-inch pianist", "How about a little head?", and the ever popular: "Make me a thousand times smarter than that guy!" -- hey, if you're lucky, someday I may give you the actual set-up for each of these punchlines as well).

Today, in the bath-tub, I had an Archimedian revelation while considering this query.

No, I did not leap up and shout "Eureka!", and I did not run, dripping and naked, through the streets of Syracuse (although, as you can tell from my last post, it's quite possible that I might have) -- first of all, I don't live in Syracuse, and second of all, I don't think that my discovery is about to change the human understanding of physical science (but who knows -- I might be wrong about that).

I did figure out what I want from my readers.

I want: Questions. Small and large.

Here's why:

I've talked about this weird blogging block I have -- I start a topic, then realize that it's really a much bigger topic than I had originally thought (witness the post on shaving my legs, which I thought would be a few brief lines), and I get all balled up about whether it's really worth writing about the topic at all, or find I don't have the stamina to continue at 2 am, or, or, or . . . .

So I think it would be great to have a bank of questions from my readers that I could respond to -- then, when I find myself "clutching up" about my blog output, I could turn to one of these questions, and make a response.

Example -- in the last two weeks, I actually have started many posts. Various titles include: "Exceptional Exceptions", "In Two Weeks", and "On Being Short, Mouthy, and Fat -- In that Order" -- but . . . . . I haven't completed them. Sometimes because I've just flat-out been occupied doing other things, sometimes because I didn't trust my drooping eyelids to see me through the post, sometimes because I really wasn't convinced that what I was writing would be of any expansive benefit to anyone, including me.

I figure that if I had a bank of curious questions, I could provide some succinct responses -- and that this would help "juice me up" for additional blog entries.

So, dear reader, are you willing? Will you send me your questions? Are you willing to prod my process with yours?

Many friends and loved ones gifted me fabulously this year on my fiftieth birthday -- and my beloved mate made me a birthday gift that I have been treasuring -- she committed to making a revelation to me every day of something that I didn't already know about her. It's been very yummy to experience this.

Want to "present" me? (As in "birthday present", but the multitudinous layers of meaning in that question are not escaping my notice.)

If so, make a comment to this blog, particularly with questions. If you don't know how to comment on the blog, just go to the end of this post, and click the comments link (even if it says "0 comments") -- then you can leave your comment, anonymously or not.

The thing about a blog is that there is no real way for me to know if anyone is even reading this -- unless they tell me. That's kind of cool, in my opinion -- and also kind of disconcerting.

On the other hand, your comments get mailed to me immediately.

Blogging consistently without response seems, to me, to require some sort of internal panache that I don't seem to possess (at least not at the present moment). I'm more a "call and response" kind of girl, I guess -- Carruch gave a teaching about this in the past couple of weeks -- on how we create transformation, and then are transformed by the results of our creation, which then leads us to create new transformation, which then transforms us, etc., etc., etc..

I notice that I blog more when people comment. Maybe the comments are the "evidence" of this creative cycle for me -- the means by which I transform and return more readily to creation.

I don't know about that completely. I do know that I want --

Questions. Large or small.

(I will probably pass on this one -- "Why is there air?" -- it's a bit out of my league at present.)