The evening before a shopping trip downtown, the evening after devouring a pulled pork sandwich at The Gristmill, and two days after sparklers I got into a mini-conversation over how change happens. I argued that change happened slowly, but was recognized instantly. My neighbor (whose name I have carelessly misplaced) argued that change happened instantly and gave a supporting example. That was the end of it. Until now, because though her example was really very good I stand by my own.
In the midst of this busy Fourth of July weekend (and there was hiking, shouldn’t forget to mention that) I mentally prepared for this post. Or, frantically looked around at all the food eaten over four days wondering what oh what should I take a picture of and write about because deadline is approaching and goodness just once could it be on time.
Frantic thinking has a tendency to turn negative. Say, for instance, pondering the site’s dismal showing last month. For weeks I’d convince myself not to make any drastic changes, to wait it out, but now all the thoughts of how people don’t want to cook during the hot summer, or how they want to be outside not inside reading went away. Your writing has not been acceptable this past month, my frantic brain now said quickly following it up with, it’s because you don’t market the site, maybe you should make some changes.
So, I’m thinking about it.
Slowly. Here and there. Maybe the font. Maybe the stories. Maybe the social media marketing or the networking. Yeah, I’ll be looking into those. You, however, will not see the research.
Just like my neighbor didn’t see me shun the crowds of firework ooh-ahhers to spend the evening with close friends at their house far away from most of the city. We stood at the back of the house watching pin prick firework displays across the horizon. It was secluded and lovely. Nor did she hear me complain about all the crowds of tourists, the tubers and the lawnchairers sitting in the Guadalupe river ruining the view.
During this holiday weekend the only truly social activity I took part in was sitting by the apartment pool, talking to the neighbors so that Benny could play with his new best dog friend.
So yeah, I’m going to make some changes. Again, I’m setting a goal to participate. It’s an ongoing, gradual struggle. Knowing that others feel the same is something of a comfort… just as long as we don’t have to actively engage with one another.
After Saturday evening Sunday was spent in solitary pursuits: making a light dinner, enjoying the best ever tart and only slightly sweet homemade frozen yogurt with plum ginger crisp, and exclaiming to no one about the unexpected rain shower. For a moment, thoughts of running outside to see if my neighbors were out occurred to me — they had been talking about the possibility of rain, but I didn’t. However, at one time I did tell them about this site.