Yesterday, I mentioned how getting into a routine eased the process of blogging - something that someone who posts every day would find 'convenient'.
But I've thought about it more, since then. And I've realized something else.
Routine lets you hide.
Yesterday, someone commented that I seem very "Zen". Could that appearance of Zen-ness be the result of hiding behind routine?
"Monday Meanders" are never more than little bits and fragments of fluff. There is no exploration of any subject in detail.
"Tuesday Tales" are just that. Tales. And seldom personal - or if they are - never real-time.
"Wordless Wednesday"? Pictures? Not very revealing.
"100 Word Challenge" on Thursdays? A fun exercise, and another excuse not to 'reveal'.
"Haiku Friday"? Just how much reveal is there in 17 syllables?
And, of course, most Saturdays and Sundays involve publication of bits of the two stories I'm working on - and though they probably reveal more about me than ANY of my posts, the things they DO reveal about me are hidden in allegory.
I'm worried and concerned. My mother, 84 years old and cranky, is going to have surgery this coming Tuesday morning. This surgery is dangerous. Chancy. Under normal circumstances I would have been totally against her taking such a risk.
The circumstances are not normal.
If she doesn't have this surgery, it's virtually guaranteed that one day she'll wake up paralyzed. Totally paralyzed. And that day is not far off. I have seen the MRI's from which her diagnosis was made and even I, a totally untrained eye, can see the problem. There is no disguising or hiding from it. There is no exaggerating these circumstances. It just is.
So I have encouraged her to have the surgery. I know what would happen if she doesn't. I know what she would insist I do if she were to wake up unable to move, unable to take any kind of care of herself - if she were to wake up totally dependent on someone else for every single thing she ingested and excreted. She told me, "That's what sleeping pills are for."
Yeah, Ma. Great.
So I'm concerned. Scared, really.
I hope to Christ I've made the right choice.