To My Dream Reader

halloween-fiveHey, you. Yeah, you!

But no pressure, right? As I browse through the postings from Blogging 101 — and with that, all the other delicious postings the Reader tells me about — I begin to think: my dream reader would be somebody who has the time to read. Or the patience. What a lot of words there are already in the world! So, Dream Reader, here’s what I’m thinking:

I won’t expect you to understand my life choices. Wow. When I read that possible prompt (“maybe your dad, so he’ll finally understand your life choices”), I had a moment’s almost dizziness. Imagine what it would be like to have someone — Dad, anybody — who understood your life choices. Imagine — for just a precious moment, say — what it would be like, being able to understand your life choices yourself. Oh, that would be something.  Reader, I don’t expect to understand your life choices either. That’s okay with me. Life choices are very confusing.

I am curious about them. Really, deeply so. And I hope you’re curious about mine. Even if just a little. In a kindly way. WithIMG_1082_edited-1 willingness, if not identification. With interest and not aversion. With, well, patience. There might be something there.

I like new ideas. Hope you do too. Even better, I like new corroboration of my old ideas. Bet you do, too. And the old viewed from new angles, reader. I want you to like that too, because I do. And I send out my pictures and perceptions with some hope they might tickle some sense of recognition, of mirth, or compassion, or just  plain interest.

stop-sign-holder-twoReader, you and I, we face each other, in a kind of blindness, getting glimpses of this and that. When I read something, I hope it will add to my day — maybe my life — and if I only could, I’d be that for you too.

 

 

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