(Frog hangin’ out on his pad at the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge.)
I sometimes wonder about Emily Dickinson’s world. A recluse who wore white and eschewed publicity, a prolific writer of untitled poems — here is a verse I find especially humorous:
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell!
They’d banish — you know!
How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one’s name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
What would Emily make of our world today? Who isn’t croaking their name the livelong day, including moi?
The Boomers, the Millenials, the Gen-Xers — we croak everywhere in order to keep up with our public: Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Twitter. And just when we’re current with one platform, another one pops up for distraction. It’s become a game of whack-a-mole.
But is social media turning us into hermits, albeit of a different kind? Are we becoming techno-hermits tapping into our smart phones, i-pads, as we sit across from each other at Starbucks, no eye contact?
This is different from Emily’s retreat into self — she set the bar high and literature reaped the benefits of her hermitage. Time and a lack of tools was on her side.
I realize I am privileged to have world-wide connection. I am presently learning collage techniques on YouTube — but I can’t help but ask myself — Who am I? Who is this person who feels compelled to post about Emily, who herself had her first book of poetry published posthumously in 1890?
Am I a dreary person for wanting to croak to the entire world on this blog before I croak?
Do I really want to be a Nobody?
I do not claim to be that humble.
Nor do I want to be Lady Gaga. I guess I just want to tell my tale the livelong day to an “admiring BLOG.”
2 thoughts on “Before I Croak — I’m Just Sayin’”
Some interesting questions… Stop it! You’re making me actually think and use my brain – something you don’t necessarily have to do when social media-ing. I guess our blogging is our croaking in a pond of a different sort.
Hi AGMA. Funny I made your wheels spin. My husband says I do that too — how I befuddle him.
Blogging IS a pond, isn’t it? I’m happy to be part of the primordial ooze but now that I’m retired I am seeking more balance. On one side of the scales, I enjoy our chatty book club, Open Mic Night for reading at our local, funky Coffee House, collage group. But lately it’s “follow the bouncing Susan” and I’d like to apply myself to writing more fairy tales, poems, stories.
How did Emily Dickinson sit still? My latest? I just discovered an Artists Over 50 venue here called “FOGUE.” (Love how they took “fogies” and combined it with the chic magazine of my youth — “Vogue.” Ya gotta hand it to them — clever! And quite the impressive artworks — they inspire me to play with acrylics, see what it’s about.
But wait! I really want to listen to the still, small voice that could help with writing. Ah, who am I kidding? I’m still after an admiring BLOG.
Uh-oh. Am I making you think too much again?