mermaids singing each to each

Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

***

If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say, “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

***

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think they will sing to me.

— Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot

 

I have always felt ambivalent about blogging. On the one hand, I love words. I love to play with him and hear them play with each other. I like to write them down and see how others react to them. But there seems to be an arrogance in laying out my feelings about everything big and small (well, let’s be honest, mostly small) on the internet. My ideas are so amazing, the subtext whispers sarcastically, that everyone wants to know what I think about everything.

I am not sure how to resolve the tension between revelation and repression, to quench the desire to share one’s self without succumbing to the assumption of narcissism underneath such a desire to share.

And yet, the only way to create intimacy, even the surreal pseudo-intimacy of the internet, is to make it personal. For example, I am not a cook. I am in fact, famous for many culinary and fire-related disasters. But I stumbled on Pioneer Woman’s blog while trying to make mashed potatoes, and I feel like she and I could be friends. She is so open and funny, slipping in details about her family (her husband’s hatred of cream cheese and his surprise when he learned the mashed potatoes he loves contains it; her family’s trips into town and guilty pleasure stops at Panda Express), and she approaches cooking with the same relaxed ease. She isn’t afraid to admit that on bad days she adds more butter to the potatoes, simultaneously underscoring the food/comfort parallel without the racism of Paula Deen whil also conceding that recipes are not sacred; they can be altered and modified to fit one’s own tastes and moods, and the world will not end.

me

Me, probably laughing at something I said. I have the annoying habit of laughing at everything I say. See, the oversharing begins already.

This is all to say that while I hesitate to reveal too much of myself for fear that I will become a reality show caricature, assuming people will be interested in my every musing, I appreciate the openness in others. Ultimately, I have to trust that those who are interested will read, and those who aren’t will move along (hopefully without trolling me beforehand). So I’m trusting in you, the reader, to take what you need or are interested in without reading too much into my desire to post at all.