I'm 48 today.
Thought I'd better come back here and write something. It's not much. Just something.

It's been 6 months since I posted anything. And that was 'just something' too.
I like writing stuff, but need to make it habitual. 

What is the point?
Does there have to be a point? 

I think there has to be a purpose. 
I think it is to ask people to see the world through my eyes. 
To communicate something that may, in whatever small way possible, have an effect. 

The hope being that something, however small and nebulous, or wide and vacuous, or tall and ridiculous, mind expansive or a bit funny, or not.....but that something is sticky enough to attach itself to someone elses perception-filter-mechanism-thing. That is a technical term.

Is that what it's about? 

Maybe? Sort of. 

Everything has an effect. By writing something there is an effect. By not writing something there is an effect.  It's all part of a massively complex system that we can't see - but can only glimpse parts of. And even if we saw the entire sum of all parts they do not constitiute the whole.

The whole is more. 

So what's it got to do with the price of cheese?

The cheese I threw away into the bin this morning, because it looked manky, might have made me ill had I eaten it. It may have infected my gut with bacteria which, in interaction with other microbes, could have killed me. 

By throwing it away I may have extended my life. This may or may not have benefits for humanity - I may live to do something great, or good, or do something that consciously or unconsciously leads someone else to do something good.

Or bad.

The cheese I threw may have led to a fox on a rubbish dump gaining the additonal calorific value and nutrition needed to go back into the garden from whence he came. Or lie in the driveway of the house, tripping the man as he hurried to work. Preventing the man from running in front of the Renault Clio that was speeding to get to the hospital before the child in the back lapsed into a final coma. Saving both the tripped man and the young boy from imminent death. And allowing the man to live on and invent the medical cure which saves a million lives in the third world. 

Only for them all to be killed in the volcanic eruption.            

Should I carry on with this blog writing lark?

The consequences could be catastrophic.

Or glorious. 

Or neither.