A charm on my bracelet had broken...

aww - may 14, 2014
prompt or not: putting it all together
***

Sometimes I think that I have allowed social media, like Facebook and Twitter and LinkedIn, to steal my creativity.

Why do I think that?
Is it because I put on a different face than who I really am?
A different face so as to make a certain impression?

LinkedIn is mainly for my pet sitting business. I'm not trying to grow my business; I regularly turn away new prospects, referring them to three other pet sitters that I trust. So, why do I continue with LinkedIn?

I have two Twitter accounts - one for my business and one that is personal. On my business Twitter account, I mainly post photos of my pet friends. On my personal Twitter account I post whatever I feel like posting. I seldom get retweets or acknowledgements on either account. I'm okay with that; I think of them like bulletin boards. People might notice, or not. To add to that, I don't often engage others much on Twitter, so I wouldn't expect others to engage often with me.

Facebook.
Oh the addictive pull of Facebook.
I've been known to call it Fakebook - a label which applies to me, not necessarily others.
I rarely reveal my inner workings on my personal Facebook page. I don't want to necessarily discuss my inner personal ramblings; with Facebook updates, discussion regularly ensues. I am by nature a genuine friendly sort, and I like to acknowledge any comments posted in response to my updates. But I don't really want to discuss my personal life on Facebook, so I avoid showing certain parts of me.

But my blogs.
My blogs.
My blogs.
My blogs are different from social media. They are like my corners of cyberspace where I feel a bit of freedom? I'm not sure why that is or if I am even correctly describing my feelings about them.

I have four blogs - three public and one private.

One basically sits dormant; soulfeet is it's name. Soulfeet is a transcription of one of my handwritten journals from 1982 and 1983 presenting one of my in-residence years in the Way Corps when I was in my early twenties.

Parchment Anthology is my poetry blog where I post some of my poetry. Sometimes I think about transcribing all my poetry to Parchment Anthology. But, who knows if I'll ever get around to that. Parchment Anthology seldom gets visitors. I probably like it that way.

Versions ~ the Tender is my private blog; reserved for my eyes only. I type regularly at Versions. It has become my private online journal. I seldom hand write anymore, which I sometimes miss. There are times the neuropathy makes the physical act of gripping a writing utensil and moving it on paper laborious.

Toss & Ripple is my main public blog. I have revealed a lot of my life on toss & ripple. I do sensor what I allow to be publicly viewable, and that frustrates me at times.
Will what I write be taken as who I am for all time?
Will it be critiqued for absolute accuracy?
What if I discover that I recalled something incorrectly?
What if people read one blog entry and base their opinion of me on that blog entry?
What do my siblings think of my public writing?
What do my children and husband think of it?
My family seldom, if ever, reads my public ramblings.

And that's what these are...ramblings.

I went to the mall today. I seldom go to the mall, but a charm on my bracelet had broken, and it was still under warranty. It is the charm representing Alex. Alex is the name I chose for the fetus I aborted in 1978. My intuition has told me the fetus was male. I could be wrong, and that's okay.

As I walked past the mall stores with their large window fronts, I thought, I like nice things. All these home decor items, none of which I need. But I like them. Everything looks so clean and neat and well arranged. But, it's just more stuff. Stuff to take care of.

I got my Alex charm replaced for free. With my recent birthday gift money, I bought two new charms for my bracelet.

One of the new charms represents my marriage - a heart shaped sterling piece with two engraved rings on each side of the heart. Due to my fluctuating finger size and neuropathy, I can no longer comfortably wear rings. It's nice to have a token of my marriage, now dangling from my left wrist.

The other new charm is a sterling butterfly with open hearts in its wings depicting the ribbons within organic butterfly wings. Tiny pink gemstones rest in the butterfly's body. The butterfly represents new life, described in a poem I wrote in 2007 entitled Butterflies Will Dance; a poem honoring Alex and the reunion with his father decades later.