I had always considered blogs as pretentious. They were places where the writers could post updates on their daily lives – getting up, what they ate for breakfast, plans for the evening. Places where proud mothers could post updates on the development and activities of their children – physical milestones like walking or saying their first word or doing something which the mother was sure indicated greatness in adulthood.
Just over a year ago, I stepped into Manifesting a Meaningful Life™. I had been writing about ideas and concerns and I chose to share these with one of the participants in the programme who was staying at the same B &B. As she read, I found myself wondering how far along was she and what did she think of what I had written and what would she say to me when she was finished. The ‘good student’ in me was looking for approval of the content and the style.
When she finished reading, she thanked me for choosing to share my writing with her. Nothing else. She told me that I did not need her approval. What was important was my own approval. And I knew, in that moment the truth of what she said.
When I returned home, I decided to set up a blog on google and on wordpress – different names but the same content. I still felt awkward and wondered who would want to read what I had written? I was tentative about sharing my thoughts for public consumption, and still looked for outside approval through comments and number of views. That’s probably why I lost author control of the blogs. Don’t know what happened and it doesn’t matter. I chose not to get frustrated but to just let public writing go for a while even as I kept writing but for myself alone.
Last year, as I chose to step into ACES™, I felt moved to setup a new blog – new name on one site only. I started writing with such clarity of intention. That clarity has deepened and grown.
So why do I feel compelled to write? I love language even as I recognize the limitations of words to capture the fullness of what I want to say. In writing, I think things through without falling into the trap of associative reverie. Writing gets what I think on paper so to speak and out of my head. When I write, I may have an intention to write about one thing of concern or interest which morphs as I write into clarity about something else. The process always leads to greater clarity for me. Often, as I write, waves of energy will move through me – waves which I don’t shut down. There is usually no content attached. My body is processing and as the wave moves, I am changed. A wonderful benefit of the process of putting words down in sentences and paragraphs.
And I choose to share what I’ve written with a public I don’t know – without expectation or trepidation. I share what I write because I believe that my words have the potential to move others no matter how many others there might be. Some may read what I’ve written and wonder what the hell I’m saying – like what’s so important about that? Some may read my words and think, “Nice. Next.” And some may read what I write and be changed in the reading. And in the end, I know that it’s not about others. I write because I need to.