Blogging Identity Crisis

I'm sure you've noticed my post regularity has dropped significantly in the past couple of weeks. Well, it is partly to do with moving countries, but really that's no excuse.

The main reason is that I am having a bit of an identity crisis when it comes to my writing. This was precipitated by my week in Oxford where, among many other things, I met an eminent young blogger of the non-mommy kind, namely Matthew Anderson, who writes Mere Orthodoxy. He is also a "proper" author in the process of writing a fascinating book, and I would like to say (although he may deny it), an itinerant philosopher.

Meeting him, hearing him speak and reading his work put a magnifying glass on my own rather wishy-washy attempts to write. This blog is very much a patchwork of the many things that interest me. The problem is that on the days when nothing is interesting me, I have nothing to write. Many of you may think this is a good thing, that it is "being real". However, when you have a problem with self-discipline, as I do, "being real" can very easily look like "being lazy". So I am aware of the need for some structure and focus in my writing that can get me over the hazy troughs of unproductive unease that strike unannounced at least twice a week.

The next chapter in the story is my friend Megan, who I have introduced before. Boy do I miss having Megan around. I wish she would at least join Facebook! She is naturally a creative person's muse. She has a gift for seeking out the vision in others. I had the joy of a weekend with her recently, at which she said to me, "Cathy, you need to find your unique voice".

There it is again.

Now, as a final stamp of authority on an already clear message, I was told via an email to my husband by a dear, esteemed, and extremely eminent friend that the next step in my development as an outstanding young leader is to find a speciality to focus on.

Having heard the message, I have yet to figure out what to do about it, except that I have been swanning around in a mist of uncertainty, perhaps hoping that the focus, the vision, the unique voice will jump out at me from behind some bush and present itself in all its glory.

As that has not yet happened, I ask your patience. In the absence of immediate and exciting revelation, I may have to waffle on about various things until I stumble upon the thing. I invite you along for the ride.