I am so disappointed to discover that the weekly photo challenge has ended. I found it a really helpful lead-in to expressing myself in word and picture.
When I started my Blog I had no idea how I would find people who would be interested in reading it. But, through Haiku Heights and WPC I found my voice – and my audience.
My initial intention was to write about my thoughts and experiences so that one day, if my children or grandchildren were curious about my life and me as a person, they would have an original source to go to for information and insights. It was a delight to find that the world is full of people who are as interested in other people’s lives, activities and thoughts as I am.
It is a sad fact that when young, children do not see their parents as people in their own right, with feelings, needs and hopes. Parents are at best a support network to be available when required – when hungry or in need of shelter, money or clean clothes. At all other times parents are expected to be silent and preferably invisible.
This can lead to feelings of isolation and insignificance, especially when the parent is coping alone and does not have a network of family and friends to turn to.
When my parents were young they lived within walking distance of most of their living relatives. They could turn to each other for advice, help, or just a supportive chat. But times have changed for most of us. Extended families who once would have lived in the same streets, villages and towns became scattered and lost touch. As older relatives and friends died, our own children grew up and moved away following their dreams across oceans and continents. The casual, comforting chat became logistically impossible.
When communication is reduced to a few lines in a text or email, it is hard to express what one is really feeling. When contact is via social media like Instagram or Facebook it is unlikely that anything deep or authentic will be revealed because it may be widely shared. WhatsApp and Facetime have helped, but even those channels of communication seem strained. The person you are talking to sometimes seems more concerned about their image in the little box than in what you have to say.
I hope that I can find a new outlet for my posts in the blogosphere. I will continue to write my blog, but that weekly challenge did give me the push I needed to post regularly and share my world.
The photo I have posted to illustrate my feelings was taken some years ago in Burnham on Sea. It is a boat stuck in the mud at low tide. When the tide was in the boat was essential to the fisherman, providing a job, a purpose, an income, food and pleasure. Without the tide it is just a hulk. Sometimes I feel like that boat ~ until the grandchildren turn up ~ they are the tide that keeps me afloat these days.