Saturday, September 25, 2010

watchers from a distant shore

One hundred stories seemed a long way off when I began my blog, and now, one hundred and one is in the works. I feel a certain compressed excitement, and sentimentality, like celebrating the birthday of a dear friend. It seems fitting that an email would arrive on the very day, and contain tips on how to search my blog's stats. A simple click, my friend assured me, would reveal answers to questions I had never thought to ask, and would unlock the mystery of sort and polish. Who is reading my stories, where do they live, which one is their favorite, and how many others feel the same.
I clicked.
Sure enough. It was all there.
I happily emailed her back with this revelation.
People want to laugh.
And, they love to see you suffer, and live to tell the tale. This is not because people are unkind, but really, quite the opposite. They can empathise. They've been there, and it gives them hope to see someone else grip the surf board of life with whitened toes and ride out the waves. The Bible talks about a "great cloud of witnesses," that watch us run our race here on earth. Watchers from a distant shore. We just can't hear the cheering over the sound of the surf.

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