If you don't know the wonders of the Michael Franti & Spearhead... well, I can't say I blame you, because I did not know them until July of last year. The song, "Say Hey (I Love You)", has a funky beat and words that makes you want to sing and dance. And today, in the lull of the late afternoon, I found myself in need of such words.
What a strange picture I must have been! Sitting at my desk, my shoulders hunched over my furiously typing fingers, my high heels discarded at my feet, my toes tapping away on the plush carpet. My head bobbed with the beat in my headphones and this silly, daring, barely-containing-my-zeal-for-this-song grin spread rapidly from my dimples to the tips of my hair.
Where does such explosive joy come from? Why are some moments engulfed in it, and others simply... indifferent? Why today at 4:57, and not Thursday at 5:18, or every moment between now and then? I wish I knew.
But whatever the reason, my explosive joy appeared this afternoon, with Michael Franti and Spearhead and a pair of headphones. And I've been thinking about blogging lately, and why I blog, and why I want to keep blogging. I've been reading more from wise, caring women who write blogs about parenting, or faith, or life in the midst of chaos, or all of the above. And I have been wondering, "What place does this little blog have in the big wide blogging world? Why am I sitting at my computer, my iTunes swirling the sounds of violins, acoustic guitars and pianos around the room, speaking into the world? What musings can I contribute?
Frustration and questions.
Exasperation and laughter.
Stories - the pictures of life that loop heart to soul to mind, and make everything more colorful.
Sometimes-cynical, sometimes-snarky, hopefully-true, pictures of Christian college life.
And the one thing that I know. I love you. I love you, readers, for hearing my words and loving them. I love you, words, for making me dance in my office today and for lifting my spirits. I love you, Founding Farmers restaurant where I slammed my face into the revolving door in front of the lingering happy hour crowd. I love you, beautiful and broken DC. I love you, Lincoln Memorial steps at night with Sam. I love you, Kraemer Books with Hannah. I love you, Starbucks by Eastern Market with Cynthia. I love you, sign language book that I take with me everywhere so that eventually I will be able to speak with my hands. I love you, home and away-from-home.
I know, one thing (that I love you).