Being Breath

stories from the wilderness of everyday life

Screw It: I'm Just Writing.

I used to love blogging. I'd have some deep thought or a fascinating life experience, and I couldn't wait to pop on the computer to share it with others.

And then, something happened.

It all became so complicated.

I started questioning why I was blogging. I wanted it to be more, bigger, better. 

Posts needed to not just be written, but well written. They needed to be regularly scheduled, consistent, on topic, in line with some theme, dotted with professional photos. (Photos of the kids were great, but only if they were GOOD photos.)

 

I'd still have deep thoughts and fascinating life experiences, but I started sharing them on Facebook instead. It was easier. Over there, I placed no expectations upon myself.

The blog and this website and my newsletter became an impossible standard, some lofty goal of expression that I was never going to reach. 

 

I tried a few months ago returning to ease-of-expression through SoundCloud. I loved those two to ten minute blips where I just talked about whatever was going on. 

Once again, it became complicated.

I wanted to offer transcripts because many people preferred to read instead of listening. But transcription services were expensive. I tried doing it on my own. I started thinking, while I was recording a SoundCloud, about how long it would take to transcribe. I couldn't bring myself to just talk anymore.

And it became far less desirable to do it.

No writing, no talking, no expressing. No sharing.

 

That isn't entirely true. There was (and is) Facebook. But Facebook? Well....it's Facebook. It's a public place. It's not my home - my blog, my newsletter, my site. 

It's also an invitation to distraction. I can come on my own site and write in ample space, but the second after I share something on Facebook, I'm tempted to scroll down and see what everyone else is saying.

 

Nothing profound here - just a "hi". Just a really informal, rather poorly written post. 

A practice, if you will. A practice of returning to expression, free of expectation.

A practice I am sharing with you.