In my effort to be somewhat insightful and thought provoking, yet resoundingly private by design, there are certain things that I do not write about in this forum. This is partially due to the fact that I have a quiet loathing for the abundance of readily-available, bear-all stories that already grace the internet. Of course, I am more than happy to read them when I have the time, but I am also way too modest, too private, and far too multi-dimensional to write them. This is not to say that I couldn't post pictures of myself shaking my famous money maker on various couches and table tops in the DC club circuit. I could, but I don't. Those who know and love me embrace these experiences with me. Those who know me happen to know by default that one of my many alter egos has crazy-good rhythm, that I am prone to regular bouts of mischievousness, and that I seem to be a self-propelled magnet for magic and good times. Ironically, there have been moments when I have considered penning another blog in honor of my more high-flying experiences, but I have consistently resisted this temptation. Rather, it is more important for me to live my truths and write about them in a more reflective fashion than degrade my own reality with raunchy, tabloid-style interpretations of the same.
That said, I've been overcome by major, recent transitions in my life. The blog is corollary to this. Curiously, a few weeks ago, I noticed that my Favorite Books post attracted a great number of comments. Obviously, my readers are out there, just not commenting. Why? Secondly, it hasn't slipped my attention that the majority of my regular commentators almost always respond to posts on my academic challenges (and defeats) or my spiritual musings. As I'm processing through this phase of deciding what to do with my blog, I feel suddenly intrigued with the question of wanting to know who reads me and why? Obviously, I write what is in my head, with the censor button on certain areas of my life or thought processes that are TMI.* It's only lately that I've started to wonder what makes my readers tick. Who are you and what are you doing out there?
Here, I feel the need to open up and confess that the self-consciousness I have been feeling with my blog lately is due to the fact that I realize that this is a terrain where a certain person from the recent history of my personal life may feel as though he still has access to me, despite the fact that our time together came to an abrupt end not too long ago. My first reaction came from a place of disappointment when I considered shutting down the blog altogether as a way of fully cauterizing this connection. After all, my blog writing was the source of our connection, so why not just end it? My second reaction was to proceed as if this person never existed in my life. The thought was that I could quite literally "write" this person out of my life as I write him out of my blog. Why not just delete the posts that reference him just as I deleted his contact information from my phone and the pictures of him from my computer? This, of course, only made me laugh at myself when I realized that I was attempting to surgically extrapolate this source of pain from my life by being the great author of it. The thing is, no one has that much control, and life is not a page-turning best seller with neat and tidy chapter headings and twists and turns that always leave the heroine in a position of triumph. I fear that thinking this way is predicative of a number of psychological challenges that I unfortunately fail to possess. Ultimately, the posts remain, but I fear that my writing in recent weeks has grown watery, if not entirely uninteresting.
So...here I am at my little crossroads of Namaste. As I sit here drinking my tea and bemoaning the state of daylight savings time in upstate NY, I am tempted to ponder all of the things that I should have written in this post as a way of saving you all from my navel-gazing. Though I may not be ready quite yet, I am tempted to write about what I learned from this last relationship. I am also tempted to write about the transition I've been going through after coming back from living abroad for 5 months. I'm tempted to write about the state of my spirit in light of these events, how serendipity and magic always seem to fall into my lap, even in moments of what seems like personal disaster. I'm also tempted to write about the on-going academic dramas I have faced as a result of taking my latest teaching job...
So, I guess there are things to write about. A great deal of things. But for now, I should probably play my favorite game of throwing all of my balls in the air and leaving life (and my writing) to chance. Something is bound to fall first. For now, I feel the need to be open to what some of you all say...and to wait and see.
*"Too Much Information"