Every once in awhile I think I want to keep a blog. What's the difference between a blog and a journal? What makes me think I would write on a blog more than I would write in my journal? What makes me think that I should write on a blog rather than work on my book? It must be that I want to tell someone what I'm thinking. Is it self-indulgent? Maybe, but at least I'm not alone in wanting to spill stuff publicly. There are a bunch of you out there revealing yourselves, and I'm going to try joining you.
Why now? Because I'm sitting outside a hospital room waiting for my mom to wake up, but not wanting to wake her. I spend a lot of time in there with snippets of 5 or 10 or 15 minutes when my compulsive self would like to be doing something, but I can't muster the concentration to analyze a motet, make a musical example, or even read a few pages of Middlemarch.
I call my blog "The Good Life" because I think that's what I have. Almost everything that goes into it seems good to me. Not that I don't make colossal errors and commit grievous offenses; of course I do. Sorry everyone. But day to day, I can't think of a single way I would change most of the components of my life. I continue to feel like one of the most fortunate people who has ever lived, and thank you to any of you who may be reading this who are a part of my life. You are essential to my good life. I am not going to deconstruct this paragraph to find its logical inconsistencies, and I hope you won't either, dear reader.
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