  
Before and After
I’ve been distracted from this blog. Clearly. Good weather has a way of doing that. I thought you’d like to see what I’ve been up to. The lamp post is the most  glamorous of my projects; I’ll spare you photos of the trenches I dug and then filled. My lawn is still pretty torn up, and will be for a few weeks. But! I’ve discovered that we can actually lay sod on our own. Muahahahah. So, ahem. That’s next on my agenda. I’m just waiting for a weather break and my super husband to have a few free moments to do the heavy stuff. Then it’s off to rent a rototiller and lawn roller and to buy 40 some odd rolls of sod.  Have I mentioned  that I get high just walking through Home Depot?
Green = Giddy.
Anyhow, that’s where I’ve been. Sidetracked, preoccupied, and really grateful for an excuse not to write the post I promised on blogging.
I say I’m going to write one every year. And every year, I find a way out of it. But this year, I’m writing it. Because I don’t want to write a series, I’m going to put this lengthy post beneath the cut. And it’s totally OK if you decide you don’t care what I think about blogging. But if you do, clickity click.Â
After 7 years of blogging, you would think I would have a lot to say on the topic and that it would be easy to do so. You’d be right on the former—but I’ll confess, I have a hard time focusing, narrowing it all down, getting to the important stuff. The universal elements, not just my own pet peeves and idiosyncrasies. Because people, it might surprise you, but I’m kinda opinionated on the subject. I know, I seem so mild mannered; don’t I?Â
April in my house plays like a broken record. Early in the month the soft tentacles of doubt coil into my consiousness—another year at this endeavor has gone by. Maybe, I’m done. Maybe I’ve said all I have to say. Maybe, it’s time to quit.
So every April, I struggle with my inability to really communicate in a way that feels meaningful. I am my own worst critic, this much you should already know. All April IZ is subjected to the lamenting, the tears, and he would have you know, “don’t forget the handwringing!”. He patiently listens to the questions and the doubt and the frustration. Because once again, in reflection, I’ve not lived up to my own delusions of grandeur. Gently, ever so carefully, he reminds me yet again, “Get over yourself.” This is our April.
But then May draws near and I do get over myself. Well, sort of, anyhow. And when I really boil it all down–when I step away from my ego and my perfectionism–what is left is a deep desire to tell you that the world is beautiful.Â
It is beautiful in its sometimes misery. It’s beautiful in its sometimes spontaneous grace. It is beautiful in the still moments and in the chaos and in every spot in between. We just need to be reminded.Â
I need to be reminded. And that, my dear readers, is why I blog.
I’ve been accused, viciously I might add, of being narcissistic and obsessed with my stats, commenting, and the amount of lurkers on this blog. Accusations that are probably true. But not true in the way I’m depicted. True in a far more subtle way. In a way I’ve only just been able to articulate.Â
It’s true, I care too much about my readership. I tend to obsess over the lack of comments (but then, I obsess over all kinds of things, so this isn’t really news). There is no a correlation between my readership and comments on this blog. Only about 10% of you are regular written participants. The rest of you, silently read and never let me know what you think. Or, that you are even there. I see you clicking through posts and I wonder–who are you? What keeps you coming back?Â
I wonder because I care.Â
Read enough bloggers, and eventually you’ll bump into those who pontificate  just to hear themselves talk, by their own admission no less! And they will tell you that they could care less about commenting, stats, or their readership. They blog for themselves, to hell with the rest of us. You know, take them or leave them—they don’t care. They’ve got it all figured out, and their pearls of wisdom are there for the taking or not.Â
But I’m going to go out on a limb here and scream at the top of my lungs, “LIAR, LIAR, LIAR!” Because if they didn’t care, they wouldn’t have commenting open—would they? Isn’t that what a private journal is for, after all? Secret and just for your own eyes? Why put yourself out there if you don’t really care?
No, see, we have commenting open on these posts, we write our hearts out, we tell our stories because we do care! To claim otherwise is to lie to yourself and your readership. In a medium where authenticity is the goalpost, it seems disengenious to deny a concern over readership.Â
I do care, perhaps too much. But again, for a different reason than a surface reading might suggest. I care, because the world is a beautiful place. And when I tell you that, I want to know you see a beautiful world too. I care because the world is a scary place. And when I tell you that I want to know I’m not alone. Ultimately, this venture of blogging is about communication. It’s about connecting and shared narratives. It’s about knowing, deep down, that when we bear witness to the beauty of our lives, in all its manifestations, we are not alone.
I care because I care about you. What you think, how you walk through this life, how you cope, what makes you smile, what scares you—what you find sacred and beautiful. And I hope, that in this process shared narratives you also find that YOU are not alone. Â Together, we journey through this beauty.
So, this is the process of April. Handwringing fades to resolve, tears turn to commitment, April becomes May. By the end of the month, I am committed to one more year of showing and telling you just how beautiful this life is. Nothing more, nothing less. I hope you’ll join me—in whatever way that helps you know you are not alone—this year. Â
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Classy lamp post! And nice blog post too!
I’ve found that when I tell myself that I’m only “doing it for myself” that I actually blog more, and enjoy it more. Of course, you are right, I’m not only doing it for myself, just taking some of the pressure off to actually write something intelligent and engaging. Then I can have fun with photos and writing down the minutiae of life. 🙂
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Thank you! I’m excited about that lamp post.
And Michelle, there’s a HUGE difference between telling yourself that you’re doing it for yourself and then telling your READERS that it’s “just for you,” but then pointing fingers at all those “other bloggers who care too much.” Ahem. *wink*
Anything that keeps you at the process is a good thing, I think. It’s HARD work to keep at it–especially if we feel alone in the process. So, keep at it “just for you” and some of us will keep reading. OK? 😀 (and thanks for the comment.) ~wende
I think this is a very beautiful post. I would tell you not to worry so much. (says history’s chief worrier) As long as you keep living you’ll always have things to share and tell others. whoa…where did that come from?
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Oh, no, Becca! I thought surely there would be a “quitting time!” *wink wink* And thank you! 😀 ~Wende
Nicely said–and I agree. I like comments and making connections with people; otherwise I’d keep a private journal! I give myself permission to write short posts, no posts or bulleted posts at times, but after a while, the words start pouring out again. That lamp post is AWESOME.
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I do think some people just write to write–but you see that in their writing. The MINUTE you start addressing your readership, the gig is up! And I think if you are having a conversation, then yeah, input from other’s means you aren’t just talking to yourself. You know?
As for the lamp post. We just replaced the light fixture and then I painted the pole black again. I’m so pleased with it. IZ installed the light on a dimmer switch so it can be on all night when I walk Miss Sophie without the neighbors complaining. ~W
This is an amazing (lamp)post 🙂
I found you through your comments on another blog – a blog I no longer read. Your comments brought me in … but your words here have kept me coming back. On the surface, we have very little in common – but underneath, where it counts, I think we share a love of words and a love of the grand design of life. We express it very differently, but the love is the same.
Blogs are a connection – a way of reaching out. I keep a journal. Some of what I write there never sees the light of my blog. I write the blog to amuse myself, to explore parts of my head that scare me and to reach people. I want people to enjoy it and I would be devastated if I got hate mail over my blog. So don’t send me any. 🙂 But feel free to forward some of your hate mail 😆
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I do think we put ourselves out there to connect. It’s not to say we wouldn’t blog if we didn’t connect–but I would argue that’s the number one reason people quit. They don’t make the connections they thought they would.
For awhile, my blog was a place for me to work on my craft. But honestly, anymore I don’t worry about craftsmanship of the post. Good writing happens, but I’m not obsessing over every post. I’m much more concerned about communicating. And while good writing is a part of that—it’s more about being honest and authentic and real. Terrific phrasing is lovely, but if it’s not honest people can see that. Anyhow. . .
I’ve very glad you read and comment. Your comments always make me laugh and I like that you have a point of view just different enough from mine to really challenge the way I think without making me feel like a complete doofus. Hee. And besides, Emily–You know I adore you! ~~Kitty.
So many lovely comments from some really kind voices. I’m just glad that you’ve decided to keep at it for the time being. But the house appreciates the time you’ve spent on it too. It creaked that message to me last night while the wind was blowing…
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Really? Because I was pretty sure I heard it creak, “Sleep? You don’t need no stinkin sleep!” ~W
I always thought that those who claim not to care about the comments were those who had that luxury because they had plenty of commenters 🙂
Love that lamppost. And how I covet your front porch.
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Well said! And I’d covet my front porch if I lived in your weather! Unfortunately, it doesn’t get as much use as I’d like due to the chill and rain here. But, thank you. ~W
I hope you understand that your blog does touch a lot of people, and no, comments aren’t the way to measure that. I’m a very guilty lurker myself on many of the sites I read, often because I read most of them in my RSS reader, where commenting isn’t easy or sometimes even possible. Keep on writing!
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Thank you, Kate. I suspect it does touch people–but I’ll confess, I think I’m looking for more than just touching people. I”m interested in the dialog! However, people are free to read it and take what they will–no strings or expectations. It’s not a matter of wanting accolades. Because I have a built in fan club in my family… I’m pretty set in that department. It’s more of a matter of wanting to make manifest in this medium the real human connections possible. Anyhow, that’s more than I should probably say. ~wende
You’re so skilled at introspection and reflection. I generally have to be dragged into those areas kicking and screaming. I sort of figure that as long as people are reading I must be doing something right. So, I just keep on doing it. While spending a month “handwringing” probably isn’t the most fun in the world, I would very much like to find the time/energy/patience/insight to write with the care and craft that you put into every post. All I can say is it’s working so you must be doing something right! 🙂
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Well, darlin–you just need to go to Seminary. hahahahaha Seriously, I wrote enough “reflection papers” in 3 years to last a life time. Which, begs the question, “Why continue to blog?” All my navel gazing reflective writing is directly related to another discipline I keep monthly: Spiritual Direction. There is something about meeting with my director each month that keeps me looking for the beauty in my life. Because, you know, I’m going to have to tell her! And then that process keeps me writing here to tell you. It’s a lovely circle, really.
And you contribute to the world of blogging in your own way—and I for one, am very thankful that you do! 😀 ~Wende
I think we may be the same person.
You write and you write well… two things taht are not always necessary in a blog. I, for one, am happy to have found you. And while I understand your hand-wringing, I hope it always leads you to a place of trust. Trust that if people care as much as YOU do, they will talk and engage with you.
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We might be the same person. But, I’m pretty sure you’re a taller me! 😀 And thanks, Katie!! ~Wen
Green= giddy
Brown= bummed out
We’re in the middle of a drought in Florida and on water restrictions so everything is withered up. Boo. But I am in Chicago packing and the flowering trees are all a-blossom and everything is momentarily lush and yes, the green makes me giddy.
I love the lamp post. “Shared narratives”- that really says so much Wende. This post really does touch on the small challenges of writing a regular bit but I do truly value your perspective- and the beauty that you bring to the neighborhood. Thanks.
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Oh, I know that drought bit all too well. Our beloved Santa Barbara has been in a drought for a couple of years and we just had another devastating fire. Apparently, fire season is all year these days.
I do not envy you the packing. I’m dreading the boxes in my future. OY.
And you’re right. This post didn’t address longevity and how to keep at it—despite the challenges. Maybe next year?? 😀 ~Wen
What’s up with April and thoughts of quitting blogging/questioning why we do it/wringing the hands? I’ve been up to lots of similar thinking myself, but have ignored discussing it on my blog because I can’t fit my thoughts into anything that resembles sense.
I can’t speak for the non-commentors, but clearly those of us who keep coming back here love the space you’ve created for so many reasons – the humor, the insight, the gorgeous photos… so please stick around.
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Well, for me—April is the end of the my blogging year. And I make a yearly committment to blogging each anniversary. So, if you show up some May and there isn’t a May Day post—it probably means I’ve quit. Heh.
But thank you for the kind words. I appreciate that you read and comment. Now! When do we get to see photos of Italy on your blog??? ~W