Empowering people other than myself. I hope.

Yesterday: Time is a fickle boomerang. You stand and watch that eternal arc sometimes curl back in your favour. You write something that seems all wrong, you wait, and the answer, somehow, then presents itself. Other times, like any chance I've ever thrown a boomerang, it just ditches into the earth, without loft or grace. The following post is without grace. This is not a beginning; more a disclaimer. I've held on to this post for a few days, hoping that time would bring back a resolution, or a nice ending. But it hasn't. Take it if you will. Five Days Ago: The other week I was talking on the phone, to a relative, about my blog. This relative and I are both Generation X-ers, however born at opposite ends of the demographic. Its quite amazing that even within our supposed similarities (of which there are many) the one subject we diametrically differ on is the issue of online comfort and safety. "I finally visited your blog" she said. "Oh? What did you think?" "I didn't expect...........you to be so....open." I quizzed her as to her meaning. Was she surprised that I used our real names, not pseudonyms? (Yes, but that wasn't what she meant). It turns out she hadn't expected me to be so open about my 'issues' (which I highlight in my About Me page and won't go into here). I really am just a cuddly teddy bear, I swear. Now it was my turn to get uncomfortable. "I...ah...well...I guess I am. But that's okay. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. I don't go on about that 'stuff' all that often." Then she backpedaled. "No, no. Don't mind me. I still don't get this computer culture. I still mistrust paying my bills online. Remember-- I was raised in the times of the "put up and shut up" and "happy face" mentality. You didn't talk about problems. You pretended you didn't have any." I fully realise in the greater scheme of things that my life, as it stands, is pretty blessed. My family and I have our health; we have a home. We live in a 'lucky country'. In fact, when I do happen to log in here and have a metaphoric couch-session-as-therapy-grouch-bitch about something that's going on, I feel pretty lousy about it. Here's a snapshot of my brain on certain days: Why do I feel guilty about feeling guilty all the time? It's my space, I can do what I want with it. But talking that crap affects your traffic. What? You get less click-throughs from the feed readers. And on those days, your traffic is less anyway. It's as if your funk is contagious and people are avoiding you. You're making that up. No, I don't think so. Well, even if it's true, who cares? I care. Because although I pretend to be cool, I am actually a pretty sensitive person. If I don't believe that a post, or a quip, or a pithy remark hasn't pierced the soul of every person who's read for the day, then I haven't done my job. Whatever my 'job' here is. Now I ask you - thus far, am I speaking with the voice of an empowered woman? Because that - shock of shocks - is precisely what I'm supposed to be talking about. No, instead I've been gibbering with a faint hysteria about audience participation in, and reception of, my blog, when in fact what I should actually be more concerned about is self-censorship (guilty) and non-narcissistic personal reflection (seriously, how can other people be so powerful when they talk about themselves, but whenever I try to be, I sound as hollow as a cow-bell). I am really asking you, does blogging empower you? because in all honesty, I'm not sure I qualify. How can someone like me, who always writes with the figure of doubt resting heavily on her shoulder, lose all self inhibition in possibly the most visible of all medias? How is my writing supposed to improve? I'm afraid of turning into come sort of calcified barnacle. Worse, some sort of cyber-squatter, who's parked on the doorstop of the temple of 'WOMEN-BLOGGING' and am about to be 'shooshed!' along at the mercies of a stiff straw broom. No, enough. Flagellation time is over. Calm blue ocean......calm blue ocean.......think happy thoughts. Concentrate on the secrets of "The Secret" and all that malarkey. Tell you what, I'll pull out a quote. That usually works. Okay. "There's almost a fear that if you understood too deeply the way you arrived at choices, you could become self-conscious. In any case, many ideas which are full of personal meaning seem rather banal when you put words to them. " Peter Weir Thanks Peter. So in other words you're saying don't be too deep? I salute you sir! (Well, today anyway.....) Four Days Ago: After I wrote those words yesterday, I managed to have a nap, to realign my inner scales, because I have a preschooler who's lately decided to start screaming anytime I leave the room and it's shredding my brain apart. (As much as tough muscle can, in any way, be 'shredded'. Bad verb). I also picked up a book, a book about writing which said that for some people, writing is a means to an end. For other people, the writing process itself is paramount. He said it didn't matter which camp you fell into - at any given time - it just mattered that you kept on pushing, thinking, stretching, questioning. So, to you, readers. Write. Be empowered. Seek to be louder, stronger, bolder than this jumble of words has accomplished. Be a writer. Be a blogger. Be women. I must go now. The children have returned. Today: ................... [It's too early to think. Need coffee.] Cross posted At BlogRhet