I have a confession to make. And I need absolution. If I tell you something, can you keep this between us? Just us?
It is hard for me to admit this, but I have something to say.
I have something to add to all of this. Something substantial.
I really believe that. I most certainly do.
No, really I do.
You may have seen my nascent and inconsistent efforts on the Facebook, or prior to that on MySpace. Why did I try my hand at expressing myself on those platforms? Convenience? A collective kvetching experience? I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.
If I think on it long enough, I discover that in using those tools, I didn’t really need to be accountable in a meaningful way to myself or others. What I mean by this: is that I could just throw it out there come what may. I could slough it off as a passing fancy, or just hope that it got lost amongst all the chatter. I could hide behind the unaccountable immediacy of the platforms. Yes they contained my profile, but let’s be honest, profiles are not in any way a good measure of a true self. They are idealized sketches of who we would like to be, and what we think we like at any given moment. They are vehicles for validation, as we seek out others that would like to be our friends, or share the same likes we do.
I’ve been there. I’ve done that. Too much gets lost in translation. I have to admit, that I played along, and was complicit in the behavior of stalking and judging my “friends”.
What else is there? How can I be more accountable to myself and to the others that I want to reach with my voice.
The people who know me best in this life suggested that I take my voice to the streets through a blog. I am thankful for those wise souls, because they are entirely practical and possess the enduring patience to help me to get out of my own way. They also benefit from knowing that I cannot feel fulfilled unless I’m striving for something more.
What is my something more? Plain and simple, and just between us-I want to write and be read.
This is because I fashion myself a writer of sorts. I have glorious notions and intentions. Abstracts exist within me. Lingering conversations, ideas, novels, anecdotes, quips, puns, and words are constantly at play in my noggin. The problem for me is one of follow through.
I don’t follow through. That is the reality. The words don’t show up, because I don’t show up.
What to do?
I say to myself “Get your ass in the chair, Chris!”
I excel professionally at making excuses and procrastination. In fact, the impetus for the blog you are reading, lies within my proclivity to subvert my passion through procrastination. Why do I do this? That is a great question. I can’t explain it with any satisfaction to myself. Perhaps if I admit and accept the limitation that I impose on myself, then I can defeat it. If I can connect the conscious and subconscious within me, and somehow explain that bipartisanship could be the path forward, then I might have a chance.
I need to get my ass in the chair. I need to put myself where the rubber meets the road, and the ink meets the page; or even the fonted character meets the Word document. That is the reality. Where it happens.
I invite all of you to this experiment. To partake of this journey. Helping my conscious and subconscious reach across that aisle within me. It won’t be perfect, and it certainly won’t be pretty. But I hope for honesty and insight and worthwhile struggle.
For every book I’ve read about writing, I could have banked that coin, and just invested in a mirror. That is where IT truly resides.
So thanks for your patience in advance. Come with me through the looking-glass. I hope you enjoy trip.
Thank you to my wife, and to Mr. Walsh the West Coast bandit for the encouragement.