How I Got to the Blogosphere
Describe yourself in three words. Whenever I ask a person to do this exercise, frankly I’m more interested in the process they use than in the actual answers they give. I’m a process person. The journey is more important than the destination. Life is in the struggle. So, as I take up blogging, I have very little idea where it will eventually take me, but I’m already fascinated by the course that has taken me to this virtual moment.
How does one choose three little words to sum up an entire lifetime of experiences of the self? How is a process question. How attempts to capture the steps and turns of the mind. How reveals the dozens of other adjectives beyond the three solicited. How is where people can vary greatly from one another. How sets us apart in the particularities and connects us in the common struggle to reach similar goals.
Me in three words?
How did I choose those three adjectives? Excruciatingly. Cautiously. And intentionally. And that is my process of doing almost anything and everything. Which is why it’s taken me more than a decade to start a blog.
- The introspective side of me spends way too much time thinking and delving into my own and other people’s psyche, and it wonders why other people would be interested in my musings.
- The conscientious side of me has determined that unless and until I can express myself perfectly, I am neither prepared nor qualified to do it publicly.
- And the visionary side of me dreams of depth of meaning and breadth of impact that questions the effectiveness of the blogosphere.
But most of all, the people-pleasing side of me doesn’t want to be rejected. And the digital world has created millions—billions of opportunities for rejection! (See how the visionary side of me has assumed that billions of people would be reached?) It’s a paralyzing conundrum: inspire some with my authentic sharing and expose my thin skin to nicks and bruises from others or horde the insights to myself and preserve my fragile ego?
The stalemate was disrupted this past year by experiences that have shaken my reality and then reoriented me. First, I turned 45, and my body began to turn on me. Gray hair, muffin top, and borderline biometric numbers have heralded the beginning of the descent from the proverbial hill. Then, within the last six months, five people connected to me or my circle of friends died, and each one was within a dozen or so years of my age. Staring mortality in the face made me realize the limited time I have on this earth and the urgency to utilize my talents and privileges to the fullest. And finally, just last weekend I met a man from half-way around the world who had seen a YouTube video of me, and he was profuse in his appreciation for my teaching on relationships. His warmth, sincerity, and appreciation cast my fears of rejection into the background, reminding me that for every critic who raises an objection to what I do or say there may be scores of people who quietly benefit.
I have excruciatingly, cautiously, and intentionally revealed much of myself to you. And I’m OK with that. Finally.