search
top

Ms. Bumble’s “Message in A Blog”

I am so very impressed by my friend Amy at The Bumble Files this evening, I am inspired to repost her post found here.

The best solution payday loans

She expresses the power and purpose of blogging. And the containment and bleed of our personal selves.

And my girl can write.

Message in a Blog

Some blogs have messages for the masses, which are embraced, shared, and circulated.

Campaigns for cancer awareness, mental health, and peace come to mind.

Who doesn’t want to be swept up in positive momentum of doing something worthwhile?

Other messages are like cries in the dark, like the suicide note I intercepted. Yes, this did happen to me.

Unfortunately, there is not a happy ending to this story. In this case, the virtual realm met reality

with tragic results. However, the saga continues. One courageous individual, perhaps, has met his destiny

and offers hope and a new life for the two children left behind. This story deserves its own post.

In other cases, we as bloggers may want our messages to stay in our blogs. They may live in the hearts

and minds of those who read them, but may not overlap with your functioning, daily life or involve

further discussion past the comments section of your blog . You may, incidentally, mention a post to

a loved one or a friend, who probably doesn’t have a clue what you’re talking about.

A few of my family members read my blog and occasionally I will have a friend say, “Oh, I read your blog.”

Or, he or she might say, “I love your blog.” I love it when I hear that. For the most part, however,

I feel that my blog is insulated in the WordPress environment, so while it is public, there’s this feeling

of containment, and no intersection with my actual life.

I have come to adore my community of bloggers and, to some extent, may even write knowing you

are my audience, hoping you’ll stop by once again. I do not take your visits for granted. I feel assured

that if you’re reading my blog it is because it is a choice. You want to be here to listen.

As bloggers, listening is one thing we do well. If we want to share a memory, story, or a song, we can

put that in our blog. A problem, a confession, a revelation, why not put that in our blog? Happiness,

successes, insecurities, and failures, all of it, you can leave it for your blog. As readers, we’re here,

we’re ready, we accept.

If you’ll bear with me, I have a message I want to leave in my blog today. About a month ago, my mom

mentioned to me that she was printing hard copies of my blog, nothing I would ever consider doing.

Bless her! She had left my printed blog, quite a sizeable stack now, on her countertop before leaving

for errands.

My brother happened to be there and asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s Amy’s blog.”

So, when my mom left on errands, he started reading my blog, and when she returned he was still

reading my blog. He never knew I had such a thing.

“I can’t put it down,” he told her.

This touched me immeasurably. When I heard this, I was positively glowing inside, and felt acceptance,

and maybe a possibility to reconnect. Our family gatherings with so many people are often too chaotic

for deep conversation. I’m sure in some family situations where you see your family once or twice a year,

you may have a that period of familiarizing yourself with their lives.

Lately, with my brother, we all know it’s not going well. We don’t need to ask, “How are things really?”

I have always wanted to take a walk around the block with him to ask, “How we can we make it better?

How can we fix things?”

So, I hope he reads this, and that soon we take that walk. I’m here to listen.

P.S. I’m available to write your book. Count me in.

photo credit: Tom Gill. via photopin cc

Dear Holly – A Letter of Gratitude to My Teacher

My fabulous e-course teacher Holly Becker had asked for her students comments on her Blogging Your Way E-course during October 2012. As the window for enjoying the workshop resources is about to shut, I thought it time to  deliver my letter. And feel complete.

Dear Holly,

Several weeks ago, I had just listened to your last podcast for Blogging Your Way Bootcamp and typed a few notes sitting in front of my fireplace Jeanette style. I was sad to know the end of camp was near yet inspired. Per your request, I have gathered my bouquet of thoughts and am giving them to you here.

First, I am overwhelmed by the sincere sentiment and supportive-ness of your teaching style. Many aspire to teach and motivate and these talents come naturally to you. You’re a nice girl with no hidden agendas while you’re just enough of a tough nut to keep your students hustling. I smiled when you would giggle to yourself over a thought you’d expressed.

Your tenacity to earn and achieve is inspirational and frightening, yet your kindness and generosity don’t undermine your strength. I was blown away and empowered when you talked about making money on your blog and how men would never apologize or ask for permission, why do women? I haven’t felt the entitlement to earn for my talent but calling this blockage the spade it is had me looking into its evil eye. Nothing comes that you don’t believe is due you.

I had read a post where you described having type-A burnout. I now have a better understanding of what got you through as you challenged yourself using the negative voices as almost a dare. Happily, you’ve offered the greatest blogger’s permission: if it’s not fun then don’t do it. You very honestly said, “Do you really need to crank out a post today? Here are the organizational tools to do your very best and then let go of the rest”. Thanks for this borrowed permission.

Although many of your students are not creating visual design blogs, your visuals are gratifying. I found that I’d never thought of placing nice pictures unrelated to my subject. My verbal and visual sides were separated by pragmatism and logic. Creativity isn’t pragmatic and blogging is a creative process when we allow ourselves the luxury. Your course has opened up  unimagined options for me to join these two sides together.

My greatest gift from Decor 8’s Blogging Your Way Bootcamp is a better overview of where I am and want to go next. I earned confidence in my authentic voice and know my blog is grounded by this voice. And I feel confident that I’m right where I need to be and have the talent, smarts, and resources to figure the rest out as I go. (All printable materials are in a binder and post-it noted for areas of improvement and study.)

There’s a lot to learn and I have time to learn it, even as I interrupt all of this in February with the birth of a miraculous child. Foremost, I am proud of myself for showing up regularly at the camp, on my blog, and for learning new technologies and slowly making blog friends.

Am I having fun? I think I am. Do I wish I was further along? Yes, of course. But blogging, like life, is a process not a destination.

The hope has rubbed off. And I am grateful.

Love,

Shalagh

 

Pulling My Stepstool Up to the Mountain

Yesterday took a tough turn. I hit a bump I know exists but usually avoid. But my e-course homework had me placing my step stool next to that inevitable bump cum mountain. I stepped up, took a look, agreed it was the same mountain I have assumed I can not climb, stepped down and walked away crying.

Everyone has their pockets of mental puss stored away which they pray to avoid. My puss is of the technological variety. I am an artist and I like arting. However, when my art mandates the use of technology, especially that which I don’t know how to use, I feel helpless. This in turn makes me angry which then may or may not lead me to tears. And I assure you, pregnancy has not produced any storm clouds greater than an average emotional moment for PMS.

So, helplessness makes me angry and vulnerable. Why? I dunno. Maybe I don’t want to have to ask for help. Maybe when I have, I was ignored or turned down. All I know is that I avoid things that take me there. And guess what creating a blog is full of having to know how to do? Technological stuff.

Sure I forget to credit myself for all the things I can do that others are bewildered by. Like making biscuits and gravy from scratch. Or visually filling up a storefront window with a budget of $5. Or writing  in my journal .

This morning, I returned to the computer this morning. Did I mention the mountain episode took place on the computer? Don’t act surprised. I spent at least an hour and a half on Pinterest pinning as I therapized my visual brain. And then I headed back to the technological hell place. I am ashamed to admit all I needed was to print out a couple of words in a chosen font.

The special font manipulation program I downloaded first needed some sort of framework installed too. Gave up on that tack and barely acknowledged another precious hour wasted. I would not give up today. Did I mention there’s a deadline? I went back into Microsoft’s plebian publishing program and poked and poked and finally, there it was. Now hurry up and press print before it disappears.

It wasn’t really about the font you know. The font represented the greater picture of what I want to do with my blog, my writing, and my life. And I feared failure just as I did for anything else I’ve ever feared to fail; because it meant more to me than I was admitting. And I expect I should do it well or not to attempt it at all. Today, I practiced don’t panic and do it anyway.

You’ll understand a little better when you see the product of all of this effort. I will explain the rest of the story then. Thanks for putting up with my humanity.

 

Following the Leader

The world of blogging is integrally tied into the “social media thing”. I started my blog as a dare to myself and then found out my deeper fear. Every social platform I went to join, people were friending and following. What the heck did it mean? What did this really mean? What did they want and why? How could I not view myself as an ego maniac if I acted like this? Oh the issues that started to ooze.

I’ve just never been much of a follower. I was friends with both the preppies and the punkers. In my heart, I’m a leader yet I seem to have a huge blockage for making that happen on a large-scale. I guess I’ve been leading a life of my own or, call out the spade, isolating. I said I wanted to make new friends but I think I lied. There were risks at not being in control there.

As I created my blog, I didn’t even really know what a blog was. Then, I knew I should follow some people but finding the blogs that fit me to follow has been hard. And to keep my in-box from being glutted, I needed to not choose too many at once.

I began to follow some writing and design blogs. After 8 months, I am slowly starting to comment. Ironically, in person, I would not hesitate to tell you how I feel. But how you perceive me to be and who I really am can often be surprisingly different.

Why would I hesitate to reach out and say something? Maybe, you won’t care or might not get what I mean or read something else into what I’ve said? These are the only reasons I can think of but isn’t being ignored or embarrassed a good enough reason not to reach out? No. Because we won’t be alone for the rest of our lives as there’s a great big world out there. And these isolationist attitudes condemn us to unhappiness and stagnation.

Maybe, to be a leader, as good bloggers end up being, and to understand what people want or need from a leader, you first have to be a good follower. You have to support others in their endeavors and lift them up. Quote them, extol them, pin them, tweet them, and follow them. I’m about to get busy trying to figure out what that looks like. Because I haven’t done so much of this and I think I may come off looking like I’m all and only about me. Shyness often looks like snobbishness.

As humans, we head for our demise faster if we don’t recognize all the other humans as busy being human too. When I joined Facebook, I was surprised to gain a community. As a blogger, I’ve been acting like an island despite myself. No more. Even at the risk of receiving more nasty-gram, I will travel out of my comfort zone to reach out to the blogging community and a broader audience. And to listen. No hard feelings if my thing isn’t yours. Unfollow at will. Give your attention to those who give you what you need. We can agree to disagree.
Love,
Shalagh
PS. And if Facebook is easier to read my feeds, find me there at the Shalavee.com page. I’m a huge Pinterest fan but a lousy Twitterer. I guess learning that and Instagram will be next.

Blogging For Humanity

When I began my blog, I was not really a blog follower. I didn’t know, and to a certain extent still don’t know, what kind of blog I will end up being. No big Big picture but I’m working on it. I have many interests. I love to write and ponder and I love decorating and I hope I’m as funny as I intend to be.

My homework was to pick random bloggers’ sites and follow them. And so I poked around some sites, found other sites on their blogrolls, and began following about a half dozen blogs.

I followed writing blogs, a blogging blog, and a couple decorating ones too. After a year of following them, I’ve discovered a few things about the world, women, and myself. This has been a very interesting and compelling exercise in how humans are human.

The wonderful benefit of connecting with many random people is that you begin to see our collective humanity peeking through. Our knee buckling doubts of ourselves and our varying purposes and processes. We all feel sad or crazed or unworthy at times. So many bloggers doubt their purpose in continuing to blog and need assurances as to their purpose or their audience. And some of them are brilliant people that are just plain Nutz.

I am familiar with and tolerant of this state of being. I understand the uber-creatives who are raging egomaniacs. And their contributions to the world are necessary. I was following one such woman. Designer, actor, painter, and wordsmith with titillating words I would never use on my blog. I followed her for some time. Until she made a fatal mistake.

She solicited comments from her audience on her choice of sheets for her daughter’s bedroom. The beautiful headboard fabric had been hard to coordinate.  She said she knew this green gingham was bad and wanted suggestions. She also posted pictures of the inside of her cabinets she claimed to have cleaned in an attempt to prepare for a possible move. She described grandma’s dishes in detail. Not too alarming since she’d share her latest intestinal problem or zit in a heartbeat.

The next day she says, “April Fools” in July, haven’t we heard about it? And lambasts her followers for believing she would ever even consider gingham sheets or show the insides of her cupboards to anyone. Shame on everyone. Her audience then makes comments like “Ha, ha, you got me” and “I knew something was up so I just didn’t comment.” There are many followers and not one of them called foul. They wanted her to still like them.

I kept thinking about Kathy Bates as Misery. She’s got James Cahn the writer imprisoned so she can force him write another Misery book. And in one scene, she’s raves to him about being cheated. She watched a TV serial when she was a kid where the car goes off the cliff in the end. And when the next episode came on, the hero had gotten out of the car safely without explanation. She screams,”He never got out of the Cocka-Do-Dee car!” She was furious she’d been cheated. That’s a foul, a no fair, a boo hiss. And that’s how I felt.

I had no reason to believe it to be other than true. I did not pass her loyalty test. Needless to say, I immediately unsubscribed. As consumers, it is always in our power to stop consuming. And I felt like I was choking a little on the crazy there.

I feel sad to see that someone so incredibly talented and eaten up by low self-esteem continues to rage and test and sabotage her world constantly. Except, again, humanity will do as it is. And I have had human moments too. No hard feelings. We all can do what we can do until we choose to do something else. She won’t apologize. And I won’t be choosing to read her world anymore.

It is an understatement to say Thanks for reading my blog. I am truly grateful. Please be kind and compassionate to me and to you. I would understand if you no longer feel my writing adds quality to your life and you unsubscribed. But as long as you’re reading, I will continue to write from my heart and sometimes my humanity will seep through too.

 

Page 1 of 212
top