Archive for February, 2010

I have not added to The Caregiver’s Choice blog for some time because I feel uneasy about this blog in particular and perhaps about blogs in general.  This blog was created to draw attention to and to sell my book The Caregiver’s Choice.   While I try to write wisely, kindly, and well when I add to the blog, I am always aware that the purpose of the blog is different from the purpose of my book.

I wrote The Caregiver’s Choice to save my own sanity durng the fifteen hard years when I was a double caregiver.  I first shared the book in manuscript form to help others who were facing the same difficult challenges.  I then paid for the publication of the book so that it might reach caregivers whom I did not know, but who could benefit from my suggestions.  Iwanted the book to be inexpensive and in a simple form easy for busy people to read.

My main hope was that the caregiver would be encouraged, perhaps empowered, by my words to turn inward, make mental changes, and find serenity and strength that would last long after my words had faded from memory.  People have told me that the book has helped them in that way.  There is a very pure sort of joy for me in those reports.

But whenever I enter the area of marketing, my sense of joy dissipates immediately, and I feel uneasy about the basic dishonesty of acting as some sort of wise old woman while  knowing full well that the blog was created to make sales. I believe in the helpfulness of my book. I haven’t a clue about the helpfulness of what I say in the blog.  I don’t think caregivers really have much time to spend on the computer. I certainly didn’t when I was so intensely involved with my husband and my mother.  So, if I’m reaching anyone, it is probably not the people I intended to reach when I published the book.

And as for blogging in general:  I have friends who write carefully constructed blogs illustrated with lovely pictures, but I almost never read them anymore.  As a writer, as a reader, as a thinker, I am tired of short bursts of words.  I want to be deeply, quietly involved in thought when I read.  All my mail boxes are full of junk words.  I spend too much time deleting and discarding unwanted words.   Such words make me feel as if my mind were eating straw while I’m dying of hunger.

Shortly after I began writing the blog for my book, I stopped writing in my own private journal, except for bits of short, private verse.  I share one of those verses here . (I never, never, never call my verses poetry.  I am not a poet.)

            Every poet, every writer, every preacher/ Politician, lover, auctioneer, and teacher,/Lawyer, con man/ Has this in common:/Words/ We all use words to hide/To hem and haw/To hope? To heal? To howl./But not to know./ Words lead us astray/At our own bidding–/Highways and biways and alleys and lanes–/ We go./ But always away./ So we are not forced/To stand still and know.


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