November 9, 2010

It's my navel, and I'll gaze at it for as long as I please, thank you very much.

I should blog more.

That's what I tell myself, anyway. Fairly often. The other night, I read through some of my older posts, and I loved having those mile markers of my own history and snapshots of Evie's babyhood. I even had a few moments when I read a long-forgotten sentence and thought, "Hey, I phrased that pretty well."

I'm an enthusiastic writer in the past perfect tense; I love having written. Why, then, is starting a blog so difficult for me?

Honestly, I'm not sure. Here are some of the excuses I've turned to in the past. None of them hold up to scrutiny.

I'm too busy. This is the easiest excuse to invoke, and I might have a legitimate claim to it, considering that I have two kids and a full-time job with a 45-minute commute.
Rebuttal: Lack of time is a lame excuse. Everyone gets 24 hours a day. I have time for sitcoms and Facebook games; I can certainly make time for something that will have lasting value to me.

I write too much at work. I should power-down my brain after spending all day typing e-mails, crafting PowerPoints, and sharing professional-yet-friendly status updates and wall posts on the office social network.
Rebuttal: Then writing one more thing shouldn't be a big deal.

I have nothing to say.
Rebuttal: Even if my brain hasn't fired a single interesting neuron today, I have two little kids, and they're always doing stuff that I find cute and compelling.

I might write something I'll later regret. It happens. Sometimes, I read awkward sentences or naive opinions that I posted in the past, and I cringe a little. There's also the possibility that I'll write a blog that hurts someone's feelings or gets me in trouble.
Rebuttal: As long as I try to be considerate and smart, blogging isn't really so dangerous. And so what if my posts don't hold up to the test of time? I can take it as evidence that I've grown as a writer and thinker.

Bloggers are self-indulgent. What kind of person assumes that other people - friends and/or strangers - will want to read their navel-gazing observations?
Rebuttal: People like me. Maybe it's a smidge self-important, but I like sharing my ideas. In a time before social media, this would have made me an aspiring writer. The world needs writers, both aspiring and accomplished. And in this new world order in which I needn't ask anyone's permission or approval to hit the Publish button, I can do just that.

So watch out, blogosphere, I have run out of excuses.

No comments: