Blogging Reluctance

I haven’t blogged in awhile, not making time to write longhand or by computer. I prefer longhand but using the computer eliminates the time-consuming, and thus impractical, transcription step. Someone suggested scanning, and that would be ideal except that my handwriting is atrocious. I have, though, been researching how I might write more often by computer. My laptop is too freaking heavy to carry on a regular basis. I’m considering a netbook as they’re around 3 pounds. Per my research, I may be able to obtain an iPhone OS upgrade in July along with an external keyboard. (I find blogging anything lengthy using the iPhone virtual keyboard too unwieldy.)

More significantly, I struggle with psychological obstacles. I’ve second-guessed what portions of my writing I thought appropriate since my blog is accessible to everyone. Yet when I examine that term, I realize that nothing is inherently (in)appropriate, that what I include is based on why I’m writing the blog.

“Appropriate”, then, has been a catch-all for content including what I would be comfortable revealing. And behind my wish to be comfortable is to avoid becoming embarrassed or shamed in revealing things. (I’ve even had embarrassment around writing a blog when I listen to inner committee members that declare it self-indulgent and declare self-indulgence to be a bad thing.)

Since I’m journaling to document threads of my explorations (into community, tantra, enlightenment, etc) and since blogging is sharing this journal with you, I’m hoping that being transparent beyond my normal comfort level will spill over into normal discourse and I’ll lower my shield more often.

“Appropriate” has also been a catch-all for content that I imagine others would find informative or entertaining. Looking behind that accommodation, that concession, I see my strategy to keep you around and for you to think highly of me. When I look behind that strategy, I see my need to feel okay, loved, and to know that I matter.

I realize this strategy is self-defeating. If I do whatever it takes to keep you around, entertaining you with all the wit and charm of my persona, particularly when my real desire is to be seen by you, I’ve remained unseen and thus alone. This applies to blogging as well as to normal discourse with you.

Yet I find avoiding this strategy tricky, in part because I tend to go unconscious early and often. I know my need to be old and insatiable (the tip-off being that I would devise a strategy around it where I hide my real self), and I’m not sure what to do about this need except continue finding ways to process it, though it remains intact despite twelve years of therapy. Meanwhile I’m putting my attention on recognizing and meeting my current desires for, say, community and intimacy, where I imagine current, satiable needs live.

I realize I’m going to be messy. If I stay firm in being who I am and you tell me I suck or, worse, that I’m boring (and thus don’t matter) my old need will likely get triggered. So my challenge is to be myself no matter what. And though I might die for a moment when you say those things to me, I’ll take stock in the fact that this death, at least, is temporary. On the other hand, I also have to navigate your praise. When you say that I’m good because of such and such and I buy into that, it’s a slippery slope for me to continue being that way to feed my addiction and keep eliciting your up-strokes. (I’ve found it easier to navigate comments from those who haven’t actually yet read the blog but want to acknowledge me for writing one as part of my journey.)