The curious incident of the lack of new years resolutions
While wrestling with the idea of giving up the blog altogether earlier, conversation around me turned to resolutions - or rather "New Year Resolutions". I thought for a few moments and could not think of much worth achieving within the next year. For a while it seemed sad that I could not think of anything, and then it dawned on me that it was a good thing.
The lack of lofty aims must mean I am happy.
Of course there are lots of things I would like to see come to pass in the next year, but many of them do not directly involve me - so they are not resolutions as such. Some of them are personal to me, and some of them are personal to others; hence the reason I will not be writing about them any time soon. This self censorship leads back to the opening of the post - my future as a writer of blog posts.
Over the last two years I have found it more and more difficult to write a blog. The level of self censorship going on from my side is such that I now doubt that I am sharing anything worthwhile. Finding miindful subjects that will not offend somebody or other in my circle of family and friends reduces the worth to a point where I question the effort involved.
A voice on one shoulder tells me that I should not care so much about the thoughts of others; that my voice is valid, and that actions or opinions I do not agree with should validate in the most part a public response. An opposing voice tells me that invariably the spoken words or acts I refer to were not shared with the public in the same way my written thoughts might be, which makes it entirely unfair. Of course there is also the prospect of people digging up throw away comments from years gone by to use as ammunition in entirely unrelated feuds.
I find myself questioning if I can really be bothered with dealing with the avoidance of the slings and arrows any more. Is it better to keep my mouth shut and walk away from the public forum ?
Stepping away invites the opportunity to connect with my closest friends through correspondence once more; which would almost certainly afford the chance to express the very real frustrations that never get written about in public.
