Shortly after I started blogging in the fall of 2006, I was surprised by the anxiety I felt whenever I faced an extended absence from this voluntary practice. Eighteen months later, I’m still surprised by that emotion. Worse: I can’t explain it. There’s not a shred of logic behind it. I don’t get paid to blog. The world will survive just fine without my voice. So why do I experience this addict’s withdrawal?
I may never know the answer to that question. Fortunately, this year, as I prepare for an extended hiatus that starts tomorrow, the typical anxiety is mysteriously absent.
One reason for its absence is likely derived from my decision to leave other blogging commitments behind and focus almost entirely on TMV. This site’s rich diversity of voices means that any one or more of our contributors can step back and, when doing so, know that others will rush in to fill the void.
A second reason, I’m convinced, is rooted in the nature of this particular hiatus: It’s devoted to what I expect could be the last family vacation my wife, son, and I will ever take. He starts college this fall, where (I’m confident) he will begin to construct a more independent life — a life that is defined more by the people he meets than the people he has known, his mother and I included. And that’s fine. That’s as it should be. But it’s also why we are committed to making the most of this family vacation.
I guess it’s true: Even the most hopeless junkies occasionally find an antidote more powerful than their addiction.