Look! A Post!
I'm once again traveling, making blog updates difficult. I always feel guilty when I'm not updating the blog, like I've made a promise by starting it and only writing and posting will fulfill this promise. I had a conversation about this with myself this morning. I asked if I really thought people were desperately waiting to hear from me. No, no I don't. But what, I wondered, if someone was waiting for me to post? How freaking exciting would that be?
Then I wondered why I would be so excited to have waiting readers. My ego snickered at me and rolled its eyes. Please. But I decided there had to be more to it than that. I decided that, in addition to wanting people to want to know what I think, I want people to hear me, to make and hold connections. To be a little bit more human than I usually feel sitting in front of computers.
I'm visiting my very cute and very tiny niece right now. Banana, as I call her (and I'm the only one), doesn't talk yet. But she looks around. She looks around like she's cataloging every single thing. That ribbon and that thread and that stone and that speck of dirt are all grist for the Banana Mill. It's all going in. So I find myself trying really hard to add something to the very long list of new information she's taking in. Yesterday we went to the mall and she had a tutorial on shoe shopping. Last night, I danced with her and sang in her ear. We get around, Banana and I, but the vast majority of our interactions go like this: Banana looks around. I try, with increasingly embarrassing displays, to catch her eye. Finally, she stops looking around long enough to really see me. We make eye contact. She grins a little. And then she goes back to scanning the world around her for something new and more interesting.
I realized earlier today that this is a little like blogging. I often feel like I'm jumping up and down and hollering "look! look! look here!" or muttering, "Oh, please, please tell me you feel this way. You do, right?" I take every site visit as proof that someone looked, someone feels that way, someone paid attention. I take every site visit like I take every grin from my niece: as proof of a connection made and held. That may be pathetic, but I don't care. So don't go away. My traveling will be over soon. I'll be back to regularly making a fool of myself any day now.
Then I wondered why I would be so excited to have waiting readers. My ego snickered at me and rolled its eyes. Please. But I decided there had to be more to it than that. I decided that, in addition to wanting people to want to know what I think, I want people to hear me, to make and hold connections. To be a little bit more human than I usually feel sitting in front of computers.
I'm visiting my very cute and very tiny niece right now. Banana, as I call her (and I'm the only one), doesn't talk yet. But she looks around. She looks around like she's cataloging every single thing. That ribbon and that thread and that stone and that speck of dirt are all grist for the Banana Mill. It's all going in. So I find myself trying really hard to add something to the very long list of new information she's taking in. Yesterday we went to the mall and she had a tutorial on shoe shopping. Last night, I danced with her and sang in her ear. We get around, Banana and I, but the vast majority of our interactions go like this: Banana looks around. I try, with increasingly embarrassing displays, to catch her eye. Finally, she stops looking around long enough to really see me. We make eye contact. She grins a little. And then she goes back to scanning the world around her for something new and more interesting.
I realized earlier today that this is a little like blogging. I often feel like I'm jumping up and down and hollering "look! look! look here!" or muttering, "Oh, please, please tell me you feel this way. You do, right?" I take every site visit as proof that someone looked, someone feels that way, someone paid attention. I take every site visit like I take every grin from my niece: as proof of a connection made and held. That may be pathetic, but I don't care. So don't go away. My traveling will be over soon. I'll be back to regularly making a fool of myself any day now.
posted by Acre at 3:21 PM
5 Comments:
You know, for what it's worth, there's many of us who wait for your posts. But don't take stress over it, we'll be here when you have time :)
Ah, thanks, Anniina. That's actually worth quite a lot.
It always makes me smile to see a new Acre post in my bloglines. This time with an "oh good, she's back!"
Even though you're not back. Enjoy the rest of your visit with your future librarian niecelet! :)
Enjoy the rest of your travels and your cute niece!
hee hee, you're funny. But I get it. Sometimes I feel like blogging is a bit like competitive mothering, so I consciously try to avoid the sitemeter part that counts visitors. But it lures me anyway.
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