On why I am suspicious of blogging

Recently my texting addiction was brought out into the open. Not that it exists, that is nothing new. When I get excited about a person, and idea, or idea about that person I can hardly hold back- even when my fingers threatened to be cut off. But I couldn't understand the shape of how my addiction didn't serve me. I just thought the person I was sending it to was too limited to accept my awesome insights or engage with them. (wow- typing that out really does look like the thoughts of a crazy person) 

Anyhoooo- this week I got a text response that pushed on my consciousness with such a force it made me stop and pause and quiet.  By texting thoughts as they floated by, even if I got totally excited about them, I was avoiding not the thought, but some feeling that was underneath that thought. Like if I didn't send it, if I held onto it, I could actually learn something beyond the way my first thought organized. By letting what was underneath that first thought  just settle in me, for me, I can get the gift of what is really emerging. But I was avoiding that lesson. I wanted to get some gold star for insights and intelligence and not the blossom of maturity. 

And I say that here, in a blog because it is not to anyone in particular and possibly read by no one at all. Because my suspicion of blogging has been - who cares? Who are you writing to? What is the point? But then suddenly wisdom emerges in the no-one-in-particular. This is a medium that seems not to rattle anyone directly and yet I can let myself take shape and offer that shape. Yesterday I said I was committing to my What I Live By my personal WILBy of each day on this blog and I guess this is it. I am committed to the truth of myself but I am scared to actually look at it and have it seen. And when it is, I sometimes don't like it,or want to change it. So committing to public words feels scary - so I send them to the people who silently support me. Seems misaligned. So today I change. Today my WILBy is that I can stand with a shape. At least for myself. So that it can disappear and be free. Namaste, bitches.