Spring is
almost here in Wiltshire and as usual I’m coming back to life. I’m feeling
quite proud of how my family and I have made it through this winter without
disaster. The vicious viral circle started in November and at least one of us
was sick right up until Evie’s little bout of chicken pox last month.
Add in the
fact that Charlie had been off work with stress and depression since October.(Sorted)
Add in the
fact that I was hormonally challenged like never before.(Mostly sorted)
Add in
financial insecurity.(Yeah well...ongoing)
Add in
facing a change to our lives (in the shape of Charlie’s new career) that
thrilled but terrified me.(Embraced)
Oy.
But we made
it in one piece and with relatively little drama.
So here I
am and here, of course, are lots of other people too. All around my blog reader
I’m seeing women emerge from the winter with fresh plans, fresh thinking. They
You are discarding old patterns and embedded stories and I empathise so
profoundly that as I read I hear deep, cell-changing harmonies.
The days are
longer and I’m falling back into my natural rhythm of waking early, in the
light, spending time outside after work and going to bed at A
Reasonable Hour. I’m moving back into my flesh and blood life, away from the
computer where I hibernate through the darker months, letting it bring me hope
and sunshine and company.
In fact, I’ve been
reassessing the way I live with the internet. I am, as I’ve often said, a fan.
It’s brought me so much that has enriched my life and I hope it will long
continue to do so. I love the way it has empowered people, women, to talk about
their lives, dreams, plans and to take action, supported by the kindred souls
they’ve met online.
But I think
I’ve been doing it wrong.
Not long
ago I read The Element (if you haven’t, do) and found that in the last 12
months I’ve rediscovered my element but not my medium. I’ve been thinking that the
internet was my medium. Now? Not so much.
There are
thousands of women out there who have found a way to come alive online and also
make a living out of it. Which is awesome. Because I wanted so badly to be
home with my child and my partner and my dogs and the pesky chooks and the
land, and because I’ve previously made a living out of print journalism, I
thought that somehow blogging could help me do it. While still providing me
with an outlet for my inner voice. I thought it was my medium.
Somewhere I
lost the balance. Instead of living my life and blogging about it for pleasure,
I started to live my life around what I wanted to blog. What would fit the vibe
of the blog, what would look lovely, read well, be honest and true but also fit
the ‘niche’. I guess eight years in marketing can do that to a woman.
Especially a woman with a need to be free from the shackles of a desk job. I
was searching for my authentic voice and in doing so, lost it and without
authenticity, nothing really ‘sticks’. And on the internet, time slips away in
a fashion that is so seductive to an
arch-procrastinator like me. Put that all together and you have me, trying and
trying to find something that was maybe never there. Trying to force something
that was never going to happen and having a great time doing it with lots of fatuous
reasons to keep on doing exactly what
I was doing – wasting time.
At some
point last week, after spending time thinking about who I’d be without my story
(haven't read it but the question is a great prompt) and about what rules I’d set on my life without even realising it, I thought, “What
would I do if the internet broke? What if there was no blogging? No Twitter?”
and immediately I felt something deep inside me say, “Oh thank f*** for that.
Can I relax now?” swiftly followed by something on the outside of me responding with,
“Wha’…wait…WTF??? I’ve been doing this for you.
And now you tell me you don’t like
it????”
It’s not
that simple of course. I love blogging and will be doing it for a long time to
come. I have some little bits and pieces that are perfect for selling online.
Being here makes me happy. Blogging about life is brilliant to write and to
read. But somewhere along the line I got so fixated on the possibility that the
internet could be an escape route for me (to what? See, I didn't think it through.) that I started to believe it was the
only one. Now, as I step back into life, I’m beginning to hear the tired,
lonely and frankly pissed off voice that’s been saying,”Step away from the
computer some more, there’s something magical out here.”
As is often
the way, when the student is ready, the teacher appears. I have many but there
are two who seem to be in charge of this semester. First up is Clarissa Pinkola Estés and WWRWTW is the best text book ever. I’ve just finished reading the chapters about
relationships and applying her wisdom not only to mine with Charlie, but also
to mine with my spirit.
Then along came teacher #2. I wandered into a second hand shop and found, leaping
out of the shelf into my hand, Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s The Invitation. I’ll
confess, in the past her name has been enough to have me walk away but someone
I love and trust, loves and trusts her so I brought it home.
I found
that, of the many things it is, for me it’s a workbook for someone looking
again for their path. Who thinks they may have taken a wrong turn, even if it
was off the right road. It’s far more down-to-earth and real than I’d been
expecting. Oriah talks about being exhausted from trying. How she longed to
just stop trying to be someone (not someone else, just someone), something, somewhere. That was when I heard the
echo of my spirit saying, “Can I relax now?” That was when all the thoughts I’d
been having for the past few weeks revealed a pattern.
I’m crap at
this anyway. I like to change my blog all the time. I post every day for a
fortnight and then nothing for a couple of weeks. I join in with blogging
groups and weekly prompts and last about 10 days. Look at all the pro-blogging
tips and I do precisely none of them. I’m rubbish at marketing myself and not because
I’m not authentic but because I am.
Authentic me changes. Authentic me is a shapeshifter and that's wonderful
unless you want to build an online persona because, er, where’s the brand
consistency? Ha. See? Wrong. Bloomin’. Medium.
So. There.
This probably means very little in terms of this blog. I’ll still do random
posts and photos but now I won’t beat myself up over it. I'll be here a lot and telling you everything, then I'll be away and not really saying anything at all. I’m going to stop
dreaming of being in the Olympics when I’m rubbish at sports. I’m going to be
kind to myself and stop worrying about whether my day is a
potential blog post or if it fits in with Tambourine Tuesdays or Witty Wednesdays. I’ll be reading them of course for verily, I loveth them. I’m just
going to stop trying and resume the search. Maybe backtrack a bit and see what I've dropped along the way. I am, as Lady Dolly of Parton once
said, going to find out who I am and do it on purpose. Only this time I’m going
to stay way more open to possibility. I’m excited.
Last night I dreamt of comets.
