You can say it’s the Indiblogger rank, or the “brand-new” second-hand car… so what really happens when you plummet, spin out of your own control and crash? You learn.
I am being unintentionally funny. Which I don’t think I’ll apologize for.
There was a time I’d blog for others, which obviously wasn’t me really ‘writing’…. and I hated it so damn much, but was an addict to the networking and sucking-up to and fro not-so-pretty dimension of blogging. More I starved for that, the less I could or did write. There’s some things you don’t do because others are on the opposite side listening, waiting. And obviously you definitely can’t do them right when done for attention. But after a long time of an inward chastising, not-so-cleansing catharsis, I have finally been exorcised. All I needed was not being able to write. And it was enough.
We know every rule, every philosophy, but we don’t really seem to understand them till it happens to us like the one in this case- trying to understand what you do, why you do, what it is to you till you can’t really do it any more…
So now I write from my desk in my lab while everyone else has gone to lunch, I post them via emails and don’t even visit my blog page; and maybe the very rare few comments that pop-up, I moderate from my emails feeling a tinge of guilt, not knowing when I’ll reply, but a happiness that some do care for me as who I am and not my popularity, as I am neither witty nor famous nor great, nor ‘unputdownable’ and of course, not a regular reader for quite some time now.
And funnily I’m lighter and I’m happier and lo, I can write! Something that makes me content.
And I am glad I finally found myself, again, from the dredges of lost and misdirected priorities. Yeah, I am back to loving myself.
P.S. I think I really, really want to go to Ireland. Irish people seem to be really awesome!