According to Raehan

This post was written by Raehan from Ao and Ahast

This past Christmas, my husband and I did somethin crazy.  We took our two youn irls (3 and 1 year olds at the time) from our home on the U.S. Pacific Coast to see our dear friends in Paris.  “You ARE crazy!” lauhed our pediatrician when I told him about it.  We were.   But it was time.

It had been ten years since we had seen these friends, a couple that we once lived with for a time in ermany.  We had missed their weddin because we were raduate students and didn’t have enouh money to travel abroad on short notice.  Years earlier they had flown out for our weddin and taken
part in it. When one of these friends later struled with cancer, we had to communicate about his illness throuh letters, e-mails and phone-calls.  We thouht about flyin out to see them after our first dauhter was born, but then the baby turned into a toddler and I lost my nerve.  They made plans to visit us.  Then they found out they were oin to have a baby.  And nine months after the first baby was born, they were expectin aain.

It was time for us to take a leap.  My husband was about to turn forty. What if we went to Europe to celebrate?   Durin a phone call I proposed it to my friend.  We were soon makin plans to spend Christmas toether.  I decided not to think about it.  “Jump, don’t think.” I told myself.

We boarded the plane on Christmas Eve and arrived in Paris on Christmas morning.  We were exhausted.   What a crew we were the first day.  Our one-year-old vomited in the middle of Christmas dinner.  They were tired themselves.  She was pregnant, and he, though having survived cancer, had
weak immunities and was struggling with a cold.  Still, it was like coming home.  My three year old felt it.  She was joyful and consistently happy almost the entire trip.  She knew.  This was special.

On New Year’s Eve, we stood with our old friends, and a few news friends, outside in the sand, near the rustic beach houses we were renting on the French coast south of Normandy.  We talked about the past year and our resolutions for the new year.  We raised our glasses.  Our family would be going home the next day.  We had not had time to do the things we had done in the past.  No longer free of distractions, we couldn’t have he long conversations that we remember having, but that was okay.  We were still
connected, and that was enough.  Our children had met.  We knew the moment was extraordinary.

There is something else extraordinary about our visit. Here I will make the hopefully-not-too-awkward segway to Michele and all of us.  Making this trip was like erasing the boundaries of time. The people that we were in our thirties touched the people we were in our twenties.  It was like coming
full circle and yet so much more.   In erasing these boundaries, a balance had been reached.

Looking back, I don’t think that it is coincidental that I started my blog a month after this trip.  Yes, I had been writing about my children and wanted motivation to do it more regularly.  However, I think I wanted more.  I was ready for adventure again.  And seeking something even more than adventure.

I write mostly about my children because they are what inspire me to write at this point in my life.  At the same time, I love connecting with all of you that are different than me,

When I was young, I looked out at the world and there were endless choices. It was overwhelming and yet so exciting. Then I started living and making choices.  Making choices was liberating.  I was finally living and breathing.  Like most of you, I love my life and the choices I have made. I wouldn’t change them.

Here, though, in the community of Michele, I can experience lives that have made different choices.  This is…..completing.  When I read the posts of those of you that just starting out in life, I recognize myself but also am impressed by the things in you that make you different than I was.  When I read the writings of those of you who are at a later stage in life, I think about where I will be one day, what I might be, what I could be.  When I read the writings of those of you that have taken slightly or starkly different paths than mine, I imagine what I might have been, and that is liberating, too.   It is phenomenal to be able to do that.  The “me” that I have put together on my blog is a more balanced me than I am in real life.
I don’t have time these days to have the conversations that I have there. Moreover, as I travel to visit you, it is like my “was, “ my “am, “my “will be” and my “might have been” are all touching—are all in balance.

On a good day.  The cost of course, is that my life in real time may sometimes get a little off course.  My laundry piles a little higher.  My desk a little more cluttered.  When I’m too far off course, though, I pull
back and straighten things out.  That’s how life in real time will always be--never quite in balance for more than a day or two.   There will always be something pulling you a bit off course.  What has really happened in my life is that blogging has almost eliminated television watching.  That’s a good trade, I think.

So, thank you, Michele.  And thank you all in this community of Michele. You—yes, YOU (along with many other wonderful people and experiences in my life)-- complete me!   That’s awfully cheesy, I know, but I’m sticking with it.

As a historian and wanna-be archivist, I sometimes wonder what future historians will make of the explosion of blogging that has occurred this past year.  What will they point to when they try to explain it? The election of 2004?  Something in society leading us to search for
affirmation?   Free accessibility to web-pages?

Print out your writings in case there is no way to preserve our blogs. If anyone asks what happened in 2004-2005, say that here, in the community of Michele, we traveled.  Ånd we found our balance.  That’s my story, at least.

What WOULD you tell them?

Comments

[MommaK]

You are amazing, Raehan. I am deeply touched by your story here. You did a superb job!

I don't know what I would tell them. For me it had nothing to do with an election, it was and is about self-expression. That need turned into a place I could neatly keep a piece of my sanity tucked away in case I lost what I currently carry around with me.

I cherish what I have found out here as well because in this circle of communication, I have found a better understanding of myself. I think that was what I was looking for all along. Quite marvelous considering I found a wonderful friend like you on my journey.

[Melody]

That was wonderful Raehan. Truly. You really put into words some comments that I feel too. It is wonderful to read other blogs and what people do with their lives and how they choose to live it. I have saved my blog (thanks to Kimbofo) onto disc, which I plan to get printed out and bound, one day, for my little one. She is the one I am doing this for and it will make a great present for her one day when she is old enough to appreciate it. Blogging. It's great mate. Thanks Raehan. Great job.

[Stephanie]

What a beautiful post, Raehan. If archiving doesn't work out, you can always be a writer.

I love the point you make about all the different choices people make. I hadn't been able to articulate why I love blogging and reading blogs until I read that. It was a lightbulb moment: it is all of us making different choices and yet supporting each other that makes this community so amazing.

Well done!

[Shane]

Raehan, I think you've put into words what a lot of us here - 'Michelists'if you will - experience quite latently. The whole blog community thing is fascinating and amazing and entertaining.

In terms of what I'd tell future generations in terms of the blog explosion, I'd point out all of those predictable things that pushed people onto the 'net - geographic mobility, cost, speed of response and the scope for multiple-way interactions. However, it is important to be mindful of the fact that to be given the opportunity to taste this blogging thing is a privilege. There are still many on our collective doorstep who do not have equality of access or opportunity (through cost, education and local cultural circumstance) to partake. But like you say, it really is rather good for those of us who do!

[Zinnia Cyclamen]

It's all that - what you said so eloquently, and the commenters above - and it's fun, too. And calorie-free! What more could we want? (Shane, I think you'll find the term is 'Michelian'!)

[Sarcasmom]

As always Raehan, beautifully and eloquently said. I don't feel the need to save my blog for posterity, For me it is a way to express all the thoughts roaming around in my head. None of them particularly deep. The written word has always been more expressive for me than the spoken one. You are so right about the feeling of community and of friendship. I have "met" so many wonderful people through blogging.

[Megan]

Beautiful, just beautiful. I don't think I could have said it any better myself.

What would I tell them? I'd tell them that finally, technology made the world smaller and created the global village that I think, ultimately, will change the world.

[indigo]

That was amazing. Very well written, and I see so much of myself in what you say, for reasons as to why you write, and why you read others writing.

I print out all my writings, and keep them in a folder. Someday, perhaps, I'll have them bound. It's almost like a journal for me.

I'm so glad to have bumped into you, Raehan.

[sleepingmommy]

That, my dear is so well written, so introspective and insightful. I don't know what I would tell anyone about 2004-2005 other than the life-changing events in my personal life that led me back to wanting and needing to write and at the same time connect with others.

I do preserve what I write but not in print. I need to take the time and money on ink (yikes!) and print it all out. But I am backing it up on disk.

[tanya]

Fantastic. And fantastically written. I like you. :)

-a fellow historian

[Janet]

What a fantastic way of looking at things. I'm glad Michele picked you; I'm glad to have 'met' you.

[Old Horsetail Snake]

The archivist scintillates again. Nicely thought out, nicely presented, kid.

[True Jersey Girl]

GREAT job Raehan! Wonderful story (as always). And you are right - Michele is the one who has connected me with most of the blogs I read and those who read mine!! So thanks Michele!

[Raehan]

Thank you, everyone! I was worried this was a little too sentimental. I'm glad you "got it." I'm glad you liked it.

As if I haven't said enough, one other thing that strikes me about this community is what good writers you all are. Truly.

[Becky]

That was a great post and well-written. I agree that it is kind of addictive and enlightening to peek in on others' lives and how it might affect our own choices, or give us the nerve to make them.

[Mamacita]

Perfection.

[bonnie]

You have a way of getting to the essence of the goodness in life, Raehan--from your dear, sweet family, to your connections with the writers you've chanced upon in the Land of Blog. Wonderful post!

We have SC&A to thank for reading you here, as well, correct?

[Raehan]

Well, I think it was just a matter of volunteering to do this. It certainly is an honor, but I don't think I was chosen over any one else to do it.

[eriksgurl]

Thanks for the thought provoking post. I'm going to have to mull this over... :0)

[poopie]

Wow Raehan! That was a superbly written piece, and so true. You're a sweetheart. Let's not imagine life without blogging ;)