Oops, I think I dripped a little existential angst on your toe

I SEEEE you (detail from my painting "Tree of Life"). In the spirit of good-natured perversity, I have this hanging in the bathroom.

Okay, I just wrote a big long post but it suddenly felt empty so I decided to scrap it and say this instead.

Lately I’ve felt kind of uncomfortable about writing in the blog. Although laughter is amazingly important to me–I still consider funny people to be just about the best people in the world–I’m no longer interested in being clever or telling amusing stories myself, and that makes me unsure of what my purpose is for the blog.

A friend was over the other day and I told her the above and she exclaimed, “But you’re the QUEEN of clever quips!” and went on along those lines for a few minutes, and I felt my heart sinking lower and lower into my stomach because she valued that so much in me, and it just isn’t there anymore. Just isn’t. I’m riding a different wave. Other friends have said similar things.  She also told me that she doesn’t visit my blog often because she doesn’t have time to assimilate what I write; it’s too much for her to process in the few minutes she devotes to reading blogs. That’s discouraging, though she didn’t mean it to be. I appreciate her honesty, and I understand what she’s saying, but now what do I have to offer?

So blogging is difficult, especially since I’m not an expert at anything and don’t travel much or scrapbook and am crap at writing book and movie reviews. I suppose that I write partly to be known and partly to share ideas that have made me feel better, so that if you’re struggling in the same ways, you can feel better too. But all of this is such a personal journey, almost too personal, and I share only a tiny bit of it with people. I wish I had a secret hidey-hole of a blog to tuck all the gritty details into, for those who are interested in them and so that everybody else isn’t bored to tears. But why not make this blog like that? People don’t have to read it if they don’t want to.

To be honest, I’m caught in a strange place–eager to share my process, but unsure if anybody really wants to hear it. It’s scary to be vulnerable like this, but I’ve been hurt so much lately that it’s difficult to believe that many people care, can accept this side of me. sigh. I realize how much I’ve pulled back from revealing myself, and how I’ve become comfortable only in sharing concepts and not the experiences that have made them come alive to me, and I don’t like that. The personal stories are what make blogs interesting! In whatever blogs I read, I tend to skim over any sentence that doesn’t begin with the pronoun “I”. But I’m having a hard time sharing my “I” in any detail right now.

I’m so grateful to the people who’ve stuck around for years, even though my style and subject matter have changed–I know who you are and I love you. I’ve also cruised around enough on the internet to see that there are millions of people who think like me, who’ve had similar experiences, who are riding the very same wave, but the problem is, we don’t know each other, and I don’t want to spend more time online courting new readers because I’m already on here enough. Gah, networking is exhausting and I just don’t want to do it.

All this babbling doesn’t mean I’m going to stop blogging… I’ve just slowed down because I’m not sure about my place in it, what I want to do with it, and how I want to do it. But, you know, relationships are about trust, trusting that the people who are reading this–YOU–are here because you want to be, not because anybody’s holding a gun to your head. Unless they are, in which case I’ll ask you to say hello to Guido for me, and tell him the check’s in the mail.

I’m just in a freaky-ass place right now when it comes to relationships, which is kind of funny considering that the post I scrapped was all about happiness and how every day has become an exciting new adventure for me. The thing is, it’s true. I am happy (even under the tears) but instead of simply telling you that, I’d like to get to the place again where I can tell you why. And not even tell you why, but bring you along on the journey so you can see why, without me having to convince you.

But I’m afraid that 99.9% of you will, or already do, think I’m batshit crazy. People thinking that about me won’t stop me from being it, but it will stop me from saying my stuff out loud. Man, that’s such a drag too, because the stuff we don’t say is the juicy chewy sweet part of the conversation. The rest is like, I don’t know, store-bought orange juice that’s been fortified with ten essential vitamins and minerals. It tastes okay and it’s pretty good for you, but where did the oranges come from? Florida? California? Mexico? Were they shaken from the tree, or picked? Did they get bruised on the way down? Were they ripe or did they sit in a greenhouse for a few weeks in a cloud of gas? Who picked them? A migrant worker with five kids or a young girl working a summer job? Did either one of them slide an orange into their pocket when the supervisor wasn’t looking? That’s the stuff I want to know. You can buy the same carton of orange juice in any old supermarket. It’s the story behind it that makes it unique.

So, I can see I have a decision to make. I think it’s either get back to being real or shut the eff up… Or, quite possibly, feel less angsty tomorrow and publish the scrapped post after all. I’m not sure if I’m ready to take the leap into full disclosure yet, but at least I can see that I’m working my way back toward it, especially since I felt I could talk to you about this, right? It’s been awhile since I’ve been nervous about pushing the “Publish” button. ha! But here I go. Talk to you lovelies later. xo

Oh, and check out my new TMI page. :)

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9 Comments

Filed under Beloveds, Creative, Folderol, Friends, Scary feet, Slap-happy

9 responses to “Oops, I think I dripped a little existential angst on your toe

  1. Frokaloke

    Sigh…. you are lovely, my Mess… and I read above and TMI with such delight! Funny but I was on the way home from one of my rare trips to town and thinking how I miss you. I just sent you an email, so I thought, cool it Froke… but lo! Or is it Lowe! I check if you have a new post and here it is!
    You know what I love about you? Not that you are funny, which you indubitably are, but that you are real. You take life seriously and are honest about how you live. That, I believe, is a rarity in this world. And… as I’ve told you before, I vote you the person who has changed the most since I have met… in a positive way thankfully! Sooo lest I overflow my little box here, I will pause my slobbering and move onto the next little box on the TMI page….

    • FRO! I can’t even tell you how much that means to me. Thank you for taking the time to tell me that. I often remember our town meetings (ha)–especially the serendipitous ones where we’d suddenly run into each other somewhere, funny since neither of us got out that terribly much. I do miss you too, dear friend. Now that we have one-fifth of your family here, do you think the rest will follow? But we can talk about that in the emails. :)

      Again, thank you so much for your very loving and kind words. SO much what I needed to hear. Also, you never have to cool it. Honestly. Cooling it is boring. I love you.

  2. You could always make some posts password protected and email the password to people’s you want reading them.

    But we all go through ups and downs and changes in our bloggingness. Just go with what feels right for you, your readers will either come along, or they won’t, but either way it’ll be right to you.

    My issue with blogging lately is that I’m finding it difficult to revisit comment threads that I’ve joined in, and so am losing out on conversations. I think it is because I used to use cocomment to track them & let me know when they updated, but that tool doesn’t seem to be working so I have to use my own memory! Which is a disaster! A disaster I tells you. Being forced to use my mind instead of having something tell me what to do :)

    Also, isn’t everyone batshit insane on the inside? We just pretend to be sane to fit in with the wider world, but in our own little circles we are insane. And that’s the way it should be

    • Hiya Fency! I suppose I could do the password thingamabob but it sounds like too much trouble and by trouble I mean it could severely interrupt my laziness. I think you’re right: I’ll just be myself and whatever I feel like being and people will either follow along or won’t. That’s easy.

      Also, yes, I think that everyone is batshit insane! Whew. It’s just that I haven’t been sure if this particular little blog circle is the same kind of crazy as me. However, that goes back to just being myself and enjoying whoever stays here and waving contentedly goodbye to whoever doesn’t. Again, easy. :)

      Re: spraining your mind in regard to comment conversations. That might possibly be a tragedy OR a great new form of entertainment for the rest of us.

  3. You need to be yourself regardless and I think you are doing that. I’m honest, or at least try to be without being incredibly insensitive. Often I fail, as you well know. I DO value your quips and way with words, it one of the reasons I have always loved you and I will not pretend that it wasn’t something I loved. However, don’t make the mistake of thinking that’s the ONLY reason I love you. I still value you whether you choose to be funny, quiet, serious, crazy ludicrous, or incredibly wise. :) That’s why I’m still around bugging you. Keeping it real is where it’s at. Accept that in me too OK and know I am different from you because, well, we’re all different. Don’t throw me out with the bathwater. Thanks!

    • Hello, Shoo-bob! There’s no WAY I’m throwing you out with the bathwater, baby. You are my oldest (in terms of knowing each other) most enduring friend and I love and appreciate you for who you are, both to me and simply for yourself. I’m glad you think the same about me, Baine. I love your honesty and friends are supposed to be free enough to share what they think with each other without fear of abandonment, mockery, or any of that. I am coming out of a really hard time in regard to relationships, which we talked about the other day so you know, and I’m having to risk trusting people again with my true self. It’s not easy but I’m going to do it because if I don’t I’ll wither and die in spirit, that’s all. Remember… REALLY WEIRD RIGHT NOW?? :)

      I love you with all my heart.

  4. HA! As if there was ever a possibility of anything different. Silly gel. Okay, I was going to write “you, me, you, me, you, me” because I suddenly thought of the sketch with the Night at the Roxbury guys. I wish I could post the video here but I’ll give you the link so you can see what I’m talking about if you want. It’s cracking me up right now. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDGGYxOrHPs

    XOXO

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