I admit, blogging is an entirely foreign concept to me, or should I say, FOR me.  I have read and admired many people’s blogs, but in general they are written by experts in a specific field, ministry leaders, or friends living out a great adventure and intentionally communicating about it.  As I fit into none of the aforementioned categories, the idea of me blogging seemed narcissistic, to say the least.  What on earth could I write about that anyone would ever want to read?

Then a friend mentioned to me that I am indeed an expert. An expert in talking.

Great, just what I’ve always wanted to hear.  And just what you’ve always wanted to hear, friends.

However, the more I thought about it, I realized that I’m not exactly an expert in talking – simply talking too much does not make one an expert – but somehow I do seem highly skilled in getting into interesting conversations.  Sometimes they originate with me, but most often they start with another person, and usually a stranger.  This shouldn’t surprise me, as I grew up in a home in which lengthy and high-level conversation was a dinner table staple (much to the chagrin of friends, dates, and extended family members less inclined). I realized that, on any given day, I’ve probably had a pretty fascinating conversation with someone, completely unintentionally, that leaves me with a head full of thoughts and nowhere to put them.

So, because I bothered to set up this account and start this whole endeavor, I’ve decided that I will write when I’ve encountered a particularly interesting conversation (which was what the first post stemmed from, anyway!).

This week’s winner?  A newish friend who called me yesterday to discuss the fact that I am writing this blog, and offer helpful hints on how to do so.  Naturally I accepted her constructive criticism and unsolicited advice gracefully – I was well-raised, you know – but one thing she said was very thought-provoking. “People will read this who don’t know you,” she reminded me, “and you have to make sure you don’t seem too unhappy.”

I guess, given the fact that my sole post was about the death of a teenager, her comment was applicable (if somewhat premature – it’s one post, people).  And I have a number of friends whom I can hear now, saying, “How dare she tell you that? We need to be real and transparent and authentic – enough of this ‘fake front’ we put on for each other!”

But what she meant was, make sure your writing reflects who you are – and for me, that is generally happy.  I like happy.  Most of the time, I am happy.  It doesn’t take much to make me happy.  So her advice was spot on, because to understand where I come from on any given topic requires knowing that I am, in fact, an annoying, optimistic, starry-eyed Pollyanna.

What makes me happy on any given day?

THIS.

And THIS.

And THIS.

And THIS.

THIS.

And most of all, THESE PEOPLE.

So you get the idea that a lot of things, completely unrelated, make me happy.  Pretty much anything.  Let’s face it, people are often annoyed by other people’s happiness.   We could hash the “why” of that to death, but ultimately it isn’t important.  This space, for me, is henceforth about The Conversation, and most real conversation (or interesting conversation) goes beyond happy.  Real conversation requires a brain that is fully awake, reasoning that is ready to be pulled and stretched, and a willingness to acknowledge that how a conversation starts does not dictate how it ends.

As I move forward in the blogging journey (assuming I stick to my initial plan of writing once a week – without a goal in mind, I would simply sit down with a book and some sour cream and onion chips instead of writing), I won’t be able to have a conversation with you, reader.  Well, I will, but it will be one-sided! However, I hope that the conversations I encounter will spur you to conversations of your own.

~NTM

*My newish friend has given me permission to use her phone call in this blog.  So nobody yell at me for it.  Thanks!