I promised myself that when the new year started, I would stop making excuses. Excuses for why I had still not yet started writing and just bloody do it already. I've been thinking about why it's taken me so long to follow through on this. I write all the time. What's been the big hold up? I've come to the conclusion that I am not only a procrastinator of the highest order in dealing with certain aspects of my life, but I also have a fear of commitment, well sort of. At least, when it comes to this. Let me explain.
I had planned to start blogging in January of 2011. My blog was supposed to be a place for me to write the things I wanted to write, and only when I wanted to write them. It was supposed to be cathartic. Mostly, I was just trying to stop being one of those obnoxious assholes that treats their Facebook account like a blog. That's it. So I asked my friend, Darwin (not his real name, but you know, whatever), to help me get a domain set up, pick a theme, figure out hosting, etc. etc., all of which he did and I was grateful. And I thought I was ready, because it was no big deal. Just a relocation of my musings from one less appropriate repository, to a more suitable one. But then, Darwin started talking about setting a regular schedule for my posts, no less than twice a week would do, but hey- daily would be even better! At this point, I was still merely whelmed, but I could feel whelmed would soon pique to more than whelmed. Sure enough, I was right. He said I needed to be consistent and dependable, and I needed to choose a blogging brand and genre (humor, mommy blogger- OMG I laugh in your general direction, Darwin- religion, philosophy- I have to choose just one?) because my readers would not be happy if I didn't post regularly and with the same "voice."
If I'm going to be honest, then I have to admit that I can barely keep the few dozen people in my life moderately happy, if even that, and now I was supposed to a) meet yet another schedule and more deadlines, b) speak with only one voice/perspective/position, which is nearly impossible for a Gemini to do (really, I change my mind more often than Lady Gaga changes her hair) and, c) I would have the weight of an entire readership's satisfaction on my shoulders. Definitely feeling beyond whelmed now. Darwin had further explained that the whole point of blogging is to drive traffic to your blog so you can monetize your words and for that to work I would need to do not only a, b and c, but d, e, and f as well...that just wasn't the point in blogging for me. All I wanted to do was write.
I guess I started freaking out just a teensy, tiny bit. And then my imagination showed up to the party. I saw in my mind's eye myself upon a white sandy beach at sunset, dressed in white linen, holding the
hand of my blog as it slipped a ring upon my finger and Tattoo from
Fantasy Island pronounced us blog and wife. No. Really, I did. Then, I saw the pages of a calendar being ripped off one by one by an unseen hand, as day after day, week after week, month after month flew off into space. I saw the hands of a clock winding around and around it's face, never slowing, never stopping until finally and spectacularly, time sped so far ahead that the clock blew up. Oh my god. Oh my god. That clock just blew up in my head! The writing was on the wall, the clock's enthusiasm-killing guts were all over my Amygdala and Hypothalamus, and my resolve to blog crumbled and skittered away with the wind like so much dust. I guess there are some drawbacks to having a highly developed imagination, for instance letting myself give up due to fear and therefore living in a sort of self-imposed blogging exile.
But, I realized yesterday (as I was toying with the idea of actually making a list of resolutions for the new year ahead) that the future comes just one day at a time. And I thought, "Bloody hell, I can do one day at a time! I do one day at a time all the time. Every bloody day, in fact." So I sat down and told myself, "Self, I can write what I want, when I want, how I want and that's all the commitment I need to make." And that's exactly what I'm going to do. Because that, People of the Internet, is the point of blogging for me.
And you should know that I know that it's not Darwin's fault, or even Tattoo from Fantasy Island's fault, that I didn't start until today. It's mine. 2013 for me is going to be a year about change, personal growth, and letting go of things that don't make me happier or better. Like fear, resentment, and regret. Or burning hot coals (those little bastards really hurt my delicate girly hands). I might even get to making that list, and who knows what I might get checked off in the year to come...if I can just resolve to start.
