Why, Yes, "Changes" Is On Loop Right Now

Can I share something silly with you?

Scratch that: I know I can share something silly with you.  You are here and you're still reading.  The question, therefore, offends.

Anyway.  As for the silly thing, it's the fact that sometimes I think David Bowie is talking to me when I listen to "Changes".

I am going to have to be a different (wo)man. 

I like that.

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I have been wondering much about blogging lately.  I haven't been visiting my friends' blogs and my favorites, and it's easy to blame things on the children.  The truth lies somewhere in the middle: the kids are overwhelming and time-consuming.  But they do allow for time to be stolen to do other things.

See, if you're asking yourself whether you are truly passionate about something, then you probably are not very passionate about that.  In other words, if you have to actively wonder if you like something enough, chances are that you're not doing that whatever-it-is to please yourself.

I can always find time to take showers and to eat french fries and to at least attempt a sudoku puzzle at least once a week; and  I can find time to take pictures.  These are things that are regularly not chores.  They are among my favorite things ever.

And then there is the gray area, which is where blogging is finding itself lately.

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I realize I am a bad networker.

I don't answer comments on here very often.  I try, but then I find that I don't have much else to say, as the comments left by others tend to be kind, witty and funny beyond what I could say.  And sometimes if I do feel like continuing the conversation, I tend to do it offline.  Incidentally, if you've ever commented on this blog, I love you dearly and consider you a precious shimmering pearl in a delicate bed of seafoam-- just so we're clear here.

But sometimes I feel like I am losing myself and losing the joy --the french-fry-eating joy, if you will-- of blogging.  The joy of writing a good, funny entry that makes people stop and laugh or think or both and then send it to their friends via email, say.  The kind of joy that comes from feeling like this is a calling; that I may not have come around to writing through a traditional pathway, but that I am good at it and, perhaps more importantly, those elusive others think it is good.

And sometimes I think I would want to write something more provocative or egregious or downright insulting, and I stop myself.  I give up that joy of writing for fear of being hated or despised.

For fear of finding a nasty comment or email, I don't go ahead and say something shocking --like the shocking, shocking fact that I find most mommy blogging to be so self-centered that if I see a potential new blog I'm about to read mentions children in any shape or form I am tempted to start screaming for a good ten minutes before purging my mind and never visiting that URL again.

Because, you know, I totally do not use the words "I" and "me" and "mine" every other sentence.

I arrived at a blog post by Megan Jordan on her blog, and I had to say that it spoke to me.  Alas, since I don't have the amount of traffic she does --which, in my opinion, renders her point a bit moot-- and I have been jinxed for going to BlogHer for four years and counting, I think I'm going to have to do my self-assessing and reinvention by simply realizing that this, this writing is my french-fry-eating joy.

No one can take my happiness away from me, unless I let that someone or that something do it.

And certainly, no one can force me to edit the contents of my mind.  I can think whatever I want, and I can write whatever I want.

And I can enjoy every last damn minute of it, readers or no readers.

Now if I could only have the same attitude when I go buy a swimsuit, I imagine I'd be floating away to nirvana very soon.

Comments

[Juanita]

I don't like swimsuits either. I had one once that was great. Then it got all stretched out, sad really.

And my blog is an exercise for clearing my thoughts. And I am grateful for my readers as well, but I realize I get more hits when people Google "live menses" than anything else. Still trying to figure out what that is...

[Megan {Velveteen Mind}]

I agree with so much of what you wrote here. So many bloggers ultimately admit what you just did, which is that they eventually find themselves self-editing and it is at that point that they reassess. Because what is the point?

Now then, why would perceived traffic render my point moot?

After you answer that, let me tell you what I tell people when I speak at conferences and they seem to be under the impression that I have a sea of traffic: I'm lucky to get 150 hits a day. Mostly not even that.

Personally, I think 150 hits a day is fabulous. I think 50 hits a day is fabulous. But no company thinks that. And the majority of bloggers around me? They throw around daily numbers in the thousands.

But do you see me sweating it? Do you see me, say, posting more often or chatting up message boards to get my name out there? Nope. Because I do my thing and you do your thing and if I'm lucky, we'll cross paths and you'll check me out.

But let's pretend I get thousands of hits a day. Why would that render the point moot that you shouldn't spread yourself so thin that you hit your saturation point before you reach the ever-coveted "success" point you see ahead?

I say, regardless of traffic, know why you are doing what you are doing and love it. Every moment that you can bear.

Traffic only holds the power that you give it. I rarely check my stats (though I'm glad I did tonight because I found you-- the ONE thing I love about stats) because what's that going to do? Change the way I write?

And yeah, I can't help you with the swimsuit thing either. Oy.

[thatgirlblogs]

I used to have the bangin'est blog and messed with it so much that I think I have about five readers now. I got too slick.

I just started a new blog for the same reasons you mention in this post.

I'm having fun and probably have an audience of one! Keeps me honest.