I [HEART] blogging

So, I was thinking the other day how much I personally enjoy blogging.  Whether I have any readers, or not; whether they agree with what I have to say, or not; whether I have anything interesting to say (to others besides myself), or not.

Perhaps it is a narcissistic exercise.  Perhaps it is a lot of hot air.

However, what I enjoy is the creative outlet it provides me to write.  I do love to write (whether I'm any good, or not), and I love words.  I have sought such an outlet for many years, something that would get me out of the scope of strategy memos for work and emotional purges in a journal.  I've considered taking a creative writing class many times - but can't commit the time, let alone take the pressure to produce on deadline or for scrutiny.  This blogging outlet allows me to write short, polished, published pieces about things I care about and ponder over with absolutely no pressure to produce.

It has been therapeutic (like my swimming regimen) to have this creative outlet away from my real life and responsibilities (though it does reflect those real life responsibilities). It allows me to consider my life and my world (and aren't we all the center of our own universe?) with some distance, perspective, and sometime humor (or not) as an "observer" - maybe even a clearer sense of self.  I enjoy writing from this Nouvelle Observatrice "alter ego" - who I would be and who I am, if I did not have real life responsibilities, obligations, and stress - a  traveler, a lover, a foodie, an amateur connoisseur of art, design, politics, people and culture). Admittedly, I enjoy reading my own blog sometimes, and remembering the experiences and seeing from whence I've come.

I choose to keep this blog publicly un-linked to my real name because I do have real life obligations, responsibilities, and a "public" work life - and I wish to keep them separate from this.   I have shared my blog with people who are not within that sphere.  And if a reader should stumble here, I would be easily recognized by someone with whom I'm acquainted (something for which I suppose I should be prepared if it were to happen at the wrong time or in the wrong way).  Then again, should that happen, I would not hide from who I am or what I've said.

All that said, when I re-read my blog, it seems like I'm a lot more "balanced" than I actually am, more "balanced" than I actually feel.  I certainly have fucked up my life as much (and as little) as anybody.  I have some regrets; and I have some points of pride.  I am not all that I can and could be. These days I'm working on being my true self (warts and all)  and acceptance - of me, of others - on all the rest, which just might be a taller order than all that striving for perfection/self-flagellation shit I'm used to.