July 21, 2012

Deep thoughts

Now that I've obsessively analyzed the crap out of my blog statistics, I have the sneaky suspicion that the only folks visiting my blog of late are a trio o' fellow bloggers (Mama, Erin, & Shell), people I know in real life, and people who accidentally stumble across my blog while searching for AWESOME NOSTRIL pics on Google Images. 

Which is fine.  I'm grateful anyone reads my mad ramblings.  And it's a lot of fun to entertain folks you know. 

But on the other hand...

Bloggers live for comments.  (Or maybe that's just me.)  Otherwise blogging is a monologue. 

And I can talk to myself any old time!  (It's one of the perks of being nuts.)

I like making people laugh.  I always have.  When Nature Boy was a baby, I went to a New Age-y retreat where I discovered that my "essence" is joy.  Bringing joy to other people (preferably through Joy's crazier twin, Mirth) is one of my "life purposes".  Deep stuff, that.  (*Insert eye roll here.*)

Anyhoo, I like blogging, but I wish it was more interactive.  Like Facebook.  Does this make me a self-absorbed attention hound? 

Mayhap.  But no more so than any other blogger

There are lots of reasons that folks blog.  Some of us are just extroverts who need a platform.  Some of us are all angsty and need a blog to work out all the complicated feelings squished up in our heads.  Some of us are aspiring writers and blogs are great practice grounds.  Some of us are lonely and find connection through the blogging community.  Some of us just want to keep a record of our days for ourselves and our loved ones.

I want to entertain.  To bring people joy.  To do my little part to balance out the stress and the crap we shovel every day.

But I also want to write. 

Really write.  A book, even.  People have been telling me I should write a book for years, but I've never had the confidence.  I have a title and an outline, but that's as far as I got before I freaked out and put my spiral notebook away. 

I freaked out because I am afraid to fail. 

If I don't write a book, I can always think, "I could've written a book."  If I do write one and it's a flop, I will have to say, "I tried and failed."

Why is failure so threatening?  It's not even my greatest fear.  It's nothing compared to loss, and I've survived that.

Has there been a time in your life when you took a deep breath and stepped out in faith to follow a dream?  How did you get over your fear?

7 comments:

  1. I'm pretty impulsive and extremely optomistic --which means that I just do a lot of things. Although I am not one of those people that says "I want no regrets, so I'm doing everything" because I've found out a number of times that regret is in fact caused by making impulsive decisions (; I guess I haven't felt a fear to follow a dream.

    The one thing in my life that I thought compulsively about and gnawed on and researched and discussed and lost sleep over was whether to homeschool. After all of that, it was a comment by a mom in an anectedote -- "I knew if we didn't try it, we would always wonder -- 'should we have?'." and that was my moment to say -- that makes sense. What's my point? To let you know that I'm listening. I don't have any experience to pour on you from my long life of wise living, fo sho.

    And that if it's a book that you're talking about stepping out to do -- DO IT. There is NO reason not to. You'll have an excellent time writing it. If it gets published, that's all the better. NAture Boy will have it for generations to come. BTW, JK Rowling sent Harry Potter to like a dozen houses and was rejected every time. DO IT!! There's nothing to lose. Writing it will be success. Having it published is just another layer on top of that. You write it. That's success.

    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What you wrote really makes sense, Mama. That the writing of the thing is a success in itself.

      My grandpa wrote a children's book and tried to get it published for years. I wish he could have realized that dream. My son read his book a year ago. That was really special. He loved his Poppy, so it was more than just entertaining to read a story he wrote. I bet it made my grandpa's spirit glad to know that something he wrote decades ago was being enjoyed by his great-grandchild. Maybe I need to send a copy to my cousin for her young kids!

      Thanks for being such a faithful reader and commentor. And friend. <3

      Delete
  2. You have no idea how much I relate to this post. I barely get any comments either. And isn't that the point of putting out our thoughts on such a very public platform? But when we ask for it, or complain about it, god forbid we look like attention whores. I'm with you - it's about interaction. I want to get to know people who are reading my stuff.

    I've heard the "you should write a book!" speech since high school. The fear (and laziness) never seem to dissipate. I've even had people try the tough love approach by telling me I'm a waste of talent. Nope, still doesn't work. I think you just have to know when you're ready. For myself, I can say that I honestly don't want to write a book. But if you really do, I don't think it's a matter of anyone imparting wisdom as much as you having that drive and love for writing - that will be what you need to guide you on your leap of faith. For what it's worth, I have total faith in you!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, I'm convinced. If YOU don't get many comments, blogging must be broken! And the number of comments must not correlate to the quality (or quantity) of blog content.

      Maybe it has more to do with the subject matter of a blog--whether or not it's an entertainment-themed blog or a deep, bare-your-soul-and-share-your-deep-dark-secrets blog. The second type seems to elicit more interaction. YEAH...that's why we don't get many comments! :)

      Thanks for having faith in me! I guess I think of creative energy as being a limited resource. I'm in awe of prolific writers--but I don't know that I could blog and write a book at the same time. I think I'd tap out my creative energy doing both. (I blame the meds!)

      Delete
  3. The only thing that got me past my fear of failure was my desire not to pass it on to my kids. Everything I've done, I've had to just jump into it without thinking too far ahead and power through like nothing was ever going to stop me. Whenever I got to the end of a project, I'd have to hole up in my house for a month and recuperate. And of course, I never really felt like I "did it" and succeeded, even when things were a 'success', I was just relieved that it was over.

    Just stick it out and ignore the fear, the only failure that should be truly devastating is the failure to try in the first place. You can do it!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I hear you and I beg you: don't stop blogging! Not that you were going to, but I really do love your posts, although it's true I haven't visited of late. My own latest leap of faith is happening now - I'm applying to teach special ed. in the local district again after quitting abruptly 5 years ago due to stress/depression/etc. I don't know if I can do it again and I'm scared, but I really want to try. What I've been learning and contemplating lately is to take things a step at a time. Stop worrying about the big picture, can I do this again, what if I quit again, etc. and just look at what's next - apply. Interview. Wait for callback. (Which is where I'm at right now.) I think about it a lot on my walks - take a step, then another, then another.... Don't lose sight of the big picture but focus my attention on THIS step right now, now THIS one.... It helps with my anxiety. I love your wisdom, insights, and hilariousness! So please keep going - we're out here!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I think you are hysterical. I love your blog. In fact, I just took 20 minutes to create some name and account so I could post this message and encourage you that you rock! I laugh til I cry reading your blog. I will remember for days something funny you said and laugh when I'm alone or in a crowd...it doesn't matter where I am.......I just laugh because you are funny. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete