A Deep Breath (#18)

Sigh.
This is my personal space,
where I want to write, draw, and create.
It did not always look like this. Not before the holidays.

I am twenty posts away from reaching two hundred, and still have not given up this project. However, as I shared before, I am in the process of reassessing my motivation for blogging weekly. Five years had passed since my first fourteen years of teaching ended, and I needed to reevaluate my life choices. When the school closed, I turned to blogging in order to find direction. While that effort failed, it laid seeds for a future attempt, the one you are currently reading. In addition, during those five years, I had built up new friendships and found a place to express my creativity and share my skills. But a lockdown, caused by a world-wide pandemic, inspired anxieties about losing those relationships and my place in the world. So, I turned to blogging in order to stay connected and remain relevant. Finally, writing, as an experience, always held a special spot in my head and heart. Putting my thoughts into written words excited me, emotionally and intellectually. It felt good releasing the jumble of ideas that churned daily in my mind. Also, teasing out those strands, and laying them out in a logical, cohesive structure challenged my analytical and rhetorical skills.

Those were the meta goals of my blogging. They sound deep and significant. Inspiring. Worthy of effort and resources. But abstract goals like those are not capable of changing old habits. And old habits undermined my first attempt at blogging, sabotaged my friendships, and interfered with my writing. Procrastination played a part in the first and third categories, but the wrong expectations obstructed all three. After learning more about building lasting habits and establishing healthy, realistic expectations (thanks to a series of podcasts and books, but also through reexamining past personal failures), I decided to approach blogging, and writing in general, from a different angle. 

After all, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results.

As I approach my two hundredth post and three-year anniversary of this blog, it is inevitable that I should look back on my achievements, and acknowledge my shortcomings. There are plenty of the latter. My daily journaling has been inconsistent, some times absent for an entire week. The novel I worked on fourteen months ago remains untouched. Blogging is reserved for Sundays, when, at one point, I was contributing three posts a week. The content itself is nowhere near what I had planned. There are so many subjects I have not discussed. And that chapter of my life at the dance studio, where I volunteered my blood, sweat, and tears, ended over a year ago (there was an epilogue, but, for the moment, it is too raw to share).    

Yet, none of this has been a waste. As the new year unfolds, I can reclaim those lofty goals. But, now I can change how I pursue them. Journaling and blogging works in tandem. If I am inconsistent with one, I have the other to cover the gap. Each day, I need to find time for both. Even if it is thirty minutes. The muscle memory is there, I just have to get moving. Changing up the blog content requires a new approach. And some courage. Writing down my reactions to things I have read may help. Then I can draw upon them when I sit down to blog. As for my anxieties, well, that requires a different kind of effort. My fiction ideas require me to ignore my expectations about what is good and worthwhile, and just put those thoughts down. I can go back later and fix it.

Finally, there is the matter of my relationships, not just to people, but to my community, and the world. Without a doubt, I have matured. There are things that need work. Communications being one. Maybe one or two expectations. And certain negative thoughts. However, I have changed for the better. In the past I would have clammed up, shut down, and turned away in the face of struggle. Now, I speak up (not as much as I should), or reconsider my own thoughts and actions (perhaps a little too much). 

No one can say that I have not stepped out of my comfort zone. 

Growth needs positive constructive feedback. Therefore, if I want my writing, and ideas, to improve, I need to share it and solicit responses. Asking for comments scares me. Valid criticism I can handle. It is the awkwardness which could transpire after an outright rejection that I fear. In addition, what I write will offend someone. Strangers I can handle. But people whom I respect? I am not sure I can stomach falling from their graces.

Finally, there is the matter of making a mistake, or being wrong. In a circle of friends, it is easier to correct ones self, or apologize. At least, it should be. That is why they are friends. The internet is more hostile, and far less forgiving. Humans have always struggled when admitting faults and errors. Social media has made doing it nigh impossible. Yet, accepting that one is wrong is essential to growth. It is the foundation of intellectual discourse, but also healthy emotional relationships.

With regards to my personal life, I have embraced humility whenever I make an assertion, given the people in my life the benefit of the doubt when I think they are wrong, and tried to openly accept my mistakes and errors as they come up during conversations. I am good with the first two, but still working on the last one.

As for the public sphere, I struggle. If I want to grow, I need to turn that around. That means writing  assertions that may end up being wrong, and sharing ideas that may upset people. Then correcting and apologizing when necessary. It would be easier if I felt more confident about my ability to express myself. My writing skills are still weak. And I have never felt my knowledge on any given subject was adequate. But, none of that will not improve, unless I put myself out there, and analyze the feedback. 

A catch-22. 

As for now, the last load of laundry calls me, as does my dinner. These thoughts will have to wait, along with my goals for reading, drawing, gardening, and woodworking.

(To be continued...)