Every time I sit to write an entry on my blog, I revise my thoughts.
Why?
Because I wonder who will read what I write. I wonder who will be offended by what I'm thinking. I wonder what parts of my story may make people see me differently. I wonder if people will see the people in my life differently. I wonder if people will try to figure out which happening in my life inspired an entry or certain ponderings.
And when you're an introvert like me, those things are scary.
Writing in a blog like this is public. It's a spilling out of my soul onto a page that anyone can read, and that I post in an identifiable way. Perhaps if this was more anonymous, it wouldn't be so scary... but really, what's the point of that? There's some cathartic release to anonymity, but that defeats the purpose of living life together, right? That defeats the purpose of all of it.
And yet, I can't seem to write the words I really want to write. And that probably explains my long periods of absence more than anything else. It's not that I become at a loss for words, it's because I'm at a loss for the appropriate words. The not too deep words. The unoffending words.
I envy the people who write uninhibited. I envy the people who can live their life never wondering what others think. I envy the people who can post whatever they want on facebook without second-guessing every phrase and sentence...
And then I have days that I wonder "how in the world, in the head of myself - that is such an introvert and always second-guessing myself - did I get this reputation for being awesome?"
Because, let's face it, it started as a joke. More of a response to the "how are you" down the hallway that no-one really wants a response to, so I started saying "I'm awesome, how are you?" At least that would cause people to stop and turn around for a second... It was also my response on days when I was feeling less than awesome because it would help me lift myself up.
Awesome is one of those words that is a wall word. It's a brick in my protection. Now, yes, as people remind me, I have done A LOT in my life, and a LOT of it is awesome. I mean, I'm not yet 30, and I've lived overseas twice, I've met awesome people, played awesome concerts, read great books, attempted writing a book (well, many), been published (don't ask, seriously), learned a lot and tried to use it for good, and had a grand time with people literally all over the world... my life has been awesome...
but that's not what I think about on a daily basis. To me, I haven't done enough, not yet. To me there is more to do. To me I need to finish a book and publish it. To me I need to discover myself more. To me - well... I'm my own worst critic (As I'm reminding myself over and over the last few days), and I don't necessarily think I've reached the pinnacle of awesome (yet?).
But I would like to be awesome some day - whatever that means.
And yet, somehow, my life has devolved (evolved?) into this ball of awesome. My ordination even had the word awesome thrown around a couple times. So, I go with it, and made an instagram with my new moniker: RevAwesome (a name stemming from my ordination), and a twitter to a similar effect....
And yet I question my awesomeness. I'm not nearly as egotistical as calling myself awesome implies. In fact, it's a striving that I take part in every day...
Much like following Christ, it's not a goal, but a process...
and I guess that's awesome, too.
There's my authenticity and awesome for the day.
fin.
Why?
Because I wonder who will read what I write. I wonder who will be offended by what I'm thinking. I wonder what parts of my story may make people see me differently. I wonder if people will see the people in my life differently. I wonder if people will try to figure out which happening in my life inspired an entry or certain ponderings.
And when you're an introvert like me, those things are scary.
Writing in a blog like this is public. It's a spilling out of my soul onto a page that anyone can read, and that I post in an identifiable way. Perhaps if this was more anonymous, it wouldn't be so scary... but really, what's the point of that? There's some cathartic release to anonymity, but that defeats the purpose of living life together, right? That defeats the purpose of all of it.
And yet, I can't seem to write the words I really want to write. And that probably explains my long periods of absence more than anything else. It's not that I become at a loss for words, it's because I'm at a loss for the appropriate words. The not too deep words. The unoffending words.
I envy the people who write uninhibited. I envy the people who can live their life never wondering what others think. I envy the people who can post whatever they want on facebook without second-guessing every phrase and sentence...
And then I have days that I wonder "how in the world, in the head of myself - that is such an introvert and always second-guessing myself - did I get this reputation for being awesome?"
Because, let's face it, it started as a joke. More of a response to the "how are you" down the hallway that no-one really wants a response to, so I started saying "I'm awesome, how are you?" At least that would cause people to stop and turn around for a second... It was also my response on days when I was feeling less than awesome because it would help me lift myself up.
Awesome is one of those words that is a wall word. It's a brick in my protection. Now, yes, as people remind me, I have done A LOT in my life, and a LOT of it is awesome. I mean, I'm not yet 30, and I've lived overseas twice, I've met awesome people, played awesome concerts, read great books, attempted writing a book (well, many), been published (don't ask, seriously), learned a lot and tried to use it for good, and had a grand time with people literally all over the world... my life has been awesome...
but that's not what I think about on a daily basis. To me, I haven't done enough, not yet. To me there is more to do. To me I need to finish a book and publish it. To me I need to discover myself more. To me - well... I'm my own worst critic (As I'm reminding myself over and over the last few days), and I don't necessarily think I've reached the pinnacle of awesome (yet?).
But I would like to be awesome some day - whatever that means.
And yet, somehow, my life has devolved (evolved?) into this ball of awesome. My ordination even had the word awesome thrown around a couple times. So, I go with it, and made an instagram with my new moniker: RevAwesome (a name stemming from my ordination), and a twitter to a similar effect....
And yet I question my awesomeness. I'm not nearly as egotistical as calling myself awesome implies. In fact, it's a striving that I take part in every day...
Much like following Christ, it's not a goal, but a process...
and I guess that's awesome, too.
There's my authenticity and awesome for the day.
fin.
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