Who cares?

I wrote zero blog posts in January. Zero in February. Five in March. Yay! But zero in April. Zero in May. Zero in June. It’s July 26th. Zero so far.

No one cares.

Check that.

I care. But not enough.

Or maybe there's something else going on.

Counterproductive beliefs

When I was in my 20's, I realized that I held these beliefs:

1. If someone cared to know something about me, they'd ask. If someone didn’t ask, they didn’t care. So I didn’t tell them.

2. If someone cared for me to know something about them, they'd tell me. If someone didn’t care to tell me, they didn’t care for me to know. So I don’t ask.

These beliefs are paralleled in other areas.

If someone cared to talk to me they’d come by or call me. Since they didn’t do it, they didn’t care. So I don’t come by or call them.

If someone cared to have me call them, they’d ask. But, since they didn’t, they didn’t, and I don’t.

If someone cared for me to do them a favor, they’d ask. Since most people don’t ask, most of the time, they don’t care, so I don’t. Why do something unasked?

But sometimes they ask. But do they care? If they don't follow up, they cared enough to ask but not enough to follow through. Since they don’t care that much, I don’t see any reason to do what they asked.

Caring and loving

Byron Katie said: "When I walk into the room, I know that everyone loves me. I just don't expect them to realize it yet."

The fact that people don’t care doesn’t mean they don’t love me. I know everyone loves me. Even people who don’t know me love me. But they don’t care. If they did, they’d do something.

Or maybe they care, but like me, they don’t connect caring and doing.

Who cares?

“I care,” God says. She connects caring and doing. She does it now by appearing in this draft. “You care, too,” She adds.

“I do care, I said. “And I don’t mean to be rude,” I tell Her, “but you’re an imaginary character.”

“Maybe I am,” God says. “But you’re an imaginary character, too. And so are all your readers. And what difference does that make? Imaginary characters can care.”

I thought for a while. Or imagined that I did.

So did my imaginary readers. Or I imagined that they did.

“OK,” I said. And I posted this with care.