Regrouping- a post about blogging

Thus far 2023 has been slow here on Καθολικός διάκονος. The pace will not pick up until 1 June. Between now and then, for the eleven days following this, I am not going to post anything.

2 June is a Friday. On that day, I am going to resume our Friday traditio. On 4 June, I will resume posting reflections on the Sunday readings on the Sundays I don't preach and my homilies when I do. I will also resume posting the weekday homilies I prepare and deliver here and there. During the week, unless it is a solemnity, I usually preach on Mondays. Why Mondays? Because that is the one day of the week my parish celebrates daily Mass in the evening.

It is also my desire, starting in June, to post some thoughts on other matters in the church and in the world. It's funny, the thought of giving up blogging after more than 16 years is one I can't bring myself to take seriously. As Beckett wrote at the end of his novel The Unnamable: “ … you must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” Something like that.

I realize the halcyon days of blogging are over, I am oddly attached to this medium. I still take my cue from the now very outdated term weblog, of which blog is an abbreviation. What I find especially attractive is captured by Nick Barney in a piece describing blogs (see "What is a Blog?"): "a frequently updated web page used for personal commentary."

I can honestly say that there is nothing at all scientific about my approach to blogging. I just write and post what I write. My only means of dissemination are my own social media accounts (i.e., Facebook, Twitter, MeWe). I don't use analytics or employ strategies about how to increase readership, etc. In my early years of blogging, I wrote a lot. I also worried about whether or not people were interested in what I wrote. This drove me to tackle just about every disputed question about which I had view. It wasn't a bad exerise for me, even though once in awhile I look back and realize that my views have changed. In most cases, not completely but in important ways nonetheless. These days, I express myself more carefully, with far less certainty, and, hopefully, more generously.

After several years and a lot of posts, I started- to use a phrase I loathe- "to find my voice." I also realized that writing is a great way to help me understand what I think, explore questions more deeply, and grow. Once I realized that not just writing but writing publicly was a vehicle for growth, I was committed. Taking this view means not worrying too much about the number of people who read what I post. In short, I am not trying to impress anyone. I simply find value in thinking through things that interest me and sharing the results of that process.

So, far from being dead or even on its last legs, this little cyberspace will continue, at least for now and for the foreseeable future. One weird thing that's happened this week here on Blogger. Four comments that were made more than a decade ago suddenly showed up for me to review. Only one was spam. I wonder why that happened. This caused me to reflect for a moment on just how long I've been doing this. Of course, in the early days, before social media really took off, my blog was much more interactive.

As for me, I am in the process of recovering from a pretty devastating bout of depression. I tend to have one or two a year. As a result, I have pulled back from everything for a few days, preferring to stay at home. I wish I could write more honestly about what it's like, but I can't. I am not sure I ever will be able to do it. Trust me, I am under no illusion that I am a writer of any sort. Yet, I write!

What did I do? Well, Friday I melted down and finally fell asleep. Yesterday, I slept in, walked, and read the third of Philip Roth's so-called "Nemesis" novellas, The Humbling. I set out to read all four last year but I only made it through two: Everyman and Indignation. These short works were the last things Roth published before calling it quits. Nemesis, the final book, was published in 2010. Roth died in 2018. After that, I started reading the one John Cheever novel I have not read: Oh What a Paradise It Seems.

The Humbling, for those who've read it, may not seem like a great book to read for someone in my situation. Oddly enough, I found it helpful. I could go on about that but I won't. I am also finishing the late theologian James P. Mackey's The Critique of Theological Reason. Like most of Mackey's work, this important book from the first half of the first decade of this century was too overlooked. Maybe I will share some thoughts about and insights from the book.