But I don't like blogs

If I ever write a book, I am going to call it Unnecessary Beauty. This is because of a conversation I once had with my very good friend Harry looking out over the Thames from South Bank and marvelling at the way the light danced on the darkening waves. We had been debating why I believed in God and I had answered that one reason was that the world was full of things that were unnecessarily beautiful; things there for no good reason at all other than to be somehow lovely or admirable. This - amongst other things - leads me to believe that there is a God and that he has made the world for our enjoyment. The Thames did not need to look strangely beautiful in that moment, but it did; there is no reason for light reflecting on water to bring us pleasure, but it does.

In a book that I can no longer find by Brennan Manning called The Ragamuffin Gospel he says that we have lost our sense of wonder. I think this is true. Unnecessary beauty should cause us to wonder at it. And enjoy it. It is a lovely thing to be in awe of something. 

However, the reason for my blogging is because, in all likelihood, I am never going to write a book. I have pretty much maxed out all my ideas in two paragraphs so it's highly unlikely I would be able to write a sustained narrative for several chapters. But I do like writing. I also feel slightly like my head is going to explode if I don't empty some of it's over analytical, somewhat frenetic, contents out in some fashion or another. I have always said that I don't like blogging and this is because I am terrified of being pretentious, of thinking that the bizarre ponderings of my head are worthy of global publication over and above someone else's. That is not what I think. I do think a lot, however, and perhaps there is no real harm in writing those things down. I do so more for myself than anyone else - selfish rather than pretentious perhaps, which I'm not convinced is any better - but I also, if I'm honest, like the pressure of an audience. The notion that my ideas need to be ordered in some way so that they make sense to someone else rather than simply making sense to me. I could probably have done this by using a diary (which I already have) but that doesn't quite cut the mustard (bizarre expression) for some reason and so, against my better judgement, here is a vague stab at a blog instead.