How important is blogging to you?
August 23rd, 2006 | by Vinny |I ask myself this question regularly. I ask because blogging:
- consumes significant amounts of time, in the following ways;
- planning what to blog;
- blogging;
- editing blogs;
- maintaining the blog;
- responding to comments and feedback;
- reading other blogs (which is necessary research for the conscientious);
- puts my privacy, and that of my family at risk;
- requires an introspection that is at times interesting and at other times painful.
That said, why continue?
I suppose most of it is ego. I enjoy writing, and have been told recently that I do it well. It may be that I am a ‘big fish in a small pond’, where those around me do not write well, so I am comparatively superior. This is what I think when I read others in the blogosphere. There are so many good writers about that I won’t consider including myself in their sphere. I can take credit for even bringing a few along, like the teacher whose students quickly outgrow his tutelage owing to their innate talents.
The need for catharsis is another driving force. I can say things on the internet that might not be said aloud. There is comfort in the anonymity (whether real or perceived) of a blog, and we cherish and protect it. I have many identities on the internet. I am all of those people. Each of them is unique and independent. Here I am a father trying to be a loving and caring member of his family. In other circumstances, I am a man striving to be an expert in a field crowded with brilliant individuals. In another, I am an expert, for I must be. The ‘logic of confidence’ dictates that for me to be successful, I must be trusted implicitly. Therefore, each morning I remind myself (aloud, by the way) that ‘I am a leader. I must lead.’
I suppose the final reason is that these are secrets we share, secrets are burdensome. Each of us holds secrets within. They are secrets from co-workers, from spouses, from friends. Some are insignificant, others are monumental. Each weighs heavily on the bearer. Unhappy customers berate call center employees because they are secretly dissatisfied with a product, and wish to share their secret. They begin to tell their friends. Their secret disdain becomes a cry from the village square.
How many of us revel in sharing stories of disaster? We all do. They are the best stories. A skilled storyteller can take a $20 product failure and turn it into a 20 minute diatribe on the state of manufacturing, customer service, and the world in general. That story will be told and retold until all have heard it, or at least heard of it. Eternally Depressed Grandmother (EDG) is a terrific storyteller. If she were Eternally Happy Grandmother, would the stories be nearly as entertaining.
So I speculate, dear reader, that I write to unburden myself of secrets. Of course, now that you have read them, are you not similarly burdened? Stay with me, and the burden is communal.
