So much of what happened this year would not have made a good blog post. Did I write? Yeah, but my favorite professor in college said that writing for one’s self is not writing, it’s journaling. I didn’t even do that all too much. But I won’t forget the significance of this year, and I’m slowly coming around to sharing less, or at least, more carefully.
A lot of great, easily post-able things happened in 2015 that I didn’t write about either, not on here. I have to ask myself if I really want to do this or not. I recently had a cheerleader of mine tell me to start blogging again. I’d been thinking the same thing.
There is so much pressure to share everything today. If you don’t post how much fun you’re having, how interesting your life is, or how complicated and busy you are, you can sort of get left behind, or at least feel that way. I have a cautious and pleasant relationship with social media, the way you’d befriend a cactus that you don’t feel like you can afford to not have around, and sometimes you think your cactus is all good and it’s right to have a cactus, and other times your cactus turns on you and sticks you a little in the neck.
I have a love hate relationship with blogging, with wanting to share my thoughts with the world, but doing so inconsistently and sort of fearing saying too much. If I were to tell you all everything, I’d have nothing left, but if I don’t tell you, what is there to read?
Maybe I’ll figure it out this coming year. I do know I still hate trends, I’m a year older from what is probably in right now, but I also know I understand myself a lot more than I used to. I don’t think I have the self-centered need for carefully crafted responses to everything and everyone.
I wasn’t planning on writing this tonight. What did I learn in 2016? That my path is often entertaining, crooked, surprising, difficult, and I don’t really need people to understand. I’ve met people this year in some places I did not expect to become comfortable. And I do wake up each day not knowing what to expect, but believing things are going to be ok, and I honestly look forward to the more in what’s going to be revealed. I have a good life, and one I do want to write about, but only if it comes from a place of genuineness.
Wow, if you’re still reading, thank you for listening while I figure some stuff out. I’m looking forward to a new year, but it’s really just that I get excited for a change of month every 30 days or so. And when I really get down to it, it’s just another day, but it’s another day. Don’t have to wait for a new calendar year to do something different.