Sooner or Later

My mom used to say, "Sooner or later, it will all come out in the wash." Now while I may not have been the smartest kid in the neighborhood, I fully understood what Mom meant when those words were directed at me ... generally, it meant I had said or done something I shouldn't have said or done and was trying to lie my way out of the mess I had managed to create for myself. I knew full well that Mom was in no way talking about my grass-stained jeans or the ground-in dirt on my t-shirt when she talked about something sooner or later coming out in the wash ... no way, no how was she talking about laundry or the washing machine. Nope, when Mom would give me "the look" and utter those fateful words, I immediately began going through my own personal naughty list to try and determine just what Mom knew I had done that I thought she didn't know. And the really sucky thing about trying to figure out what Mom knew? Most of the time in my efforts to at least appear to be coming clean, I would inevitably confess to a different transgression than the one Mom actually knew about. That was simply awesome, you know ... getting punished for two things at once, double the punishment because I had fallen right into Mom's trap ... her "Sooner or later, it will all come out in the wash," big, fat, smarter-than-me trap.

Tonight's post isn't about coming clean ... no big confessions or life-altering events to tell you about ... and it's certainly not about laundry (I detest doing laundry, by the way). I've actually been rolling tonight's post around in my head since the beginning of the year, and tonight feels like the right time to finally put my thoughts into words. And for some reason that I haven't quite figured out, Mom's words from all those years ago seemed the only way to begin ... perhaps it's the "sooner or later" part ... perhaps it's the "it will all come out in the wash" part ... perhaps it's the fear those words still invoke within me ... perhaps it's the realization that the words Mom spoke all those years ago were about so much more than the petty sins of my youth ... or perhaps it's simply that sometimes thoughts get stuck in my somewhat crazy, often irrational brain and they just won't go away. Hmmm ... wait a sec ... this evening's post that's been swirling around in my mind and the connection to what Mom said ... ahhh ... now I get it.

Over the last couple of years, I've been contacted by other blogging entities that have tried to convince me to give up my blog and join their ranks. I've been approached by advertisers who would love for me to promote their product or service on my blog, and they would pay me to do so. I'm constantly bombarded with requests from other bloggers wanting me to link my blog with theirs and for me to link theirs with mine. And to all of those offers and requests, I've politely declined, and for the most part, the people and companies have been kind and respectful in return. But last night, I got an email that said, "You might as well face the facts, Terrie, sooner or later, you'll cave in like everyone else and decide that making money from your writing is what matters most. Sooner or later, you'll see that I'm offering you a way out." Funny ... I guess I didn't know I needed a way out ... a way out of what? A way out of writing because I have a calling to write that won't go away? A way out of penning words that at times are excruciatingly painful for me with the hope that they will help someone else who may be struggling, too? A way out of opening my heart and soul and allowing others to see my innermost thoughts and feelings? Oh my ... maybe he meant he was offering me a way out of the closet ... nah ... I opened that door already and trust me when I say that even if sometimes you really, really, really wish you could crawl back inside ... well ... let's just say it doesn't work that way.

So ... here's the thing ... what I've been thinking about since the beginning of the year. First, I'm not selling out my blog, and making money from my writing is far, far, far from what matters most to me ... what matters most to me are those of you who write in to share your own stories and tell me that my writing helps you ... or encourages you ... or makes you laugh ... or brings tears to your eyes ... or makes you say, "Me, too ... she's writing how I feel, which means I'm not alone." You ... you guys and gals ... you are what matters most to me when it comes to writing. Second, though I give you my word that I'm not selling out The Tree House, I do think I need to take a few days off from writing ... not long, just a few days, I promise ... to contemplate the future direction of my blog, the subjects of my posts and the best way to tackle those subjects as I write. It's time to see what comes out when I throw The Tree House into the wash, friends ... it's not sooner or later ... now is the time to see what comes out.

I'll be back soon, and until then, know that I'm sending you hugs and love for walking the journey with me. And while you're waiting for me to come back, do something kind for someone ... feed a homeless guy and give him a blanket ... get down on the floor and play with a little kid ... go outside and look at the stars ... be kind to one another in all the ways that matter most ... be kind, and I'll see you soon.