I’m fighting with this blog.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, already at Day 5, I want to give it up.
I was writing in my journal today about how I regretted starting this project. After all, I have committed to 365 days of putting myself out there, or living these five questions that push me, and to relaying my experience.
It is easier to stay folded up, to not reveal my thoughts, to not even have the thoughts. To ignore the questions.
Folding in. That is what I’m doing. Folding in. I embraced the Rilke poem on Day 3 because it sounded like a good idea at the time. I embraced these five questions because they, too, seemed like a good idea.
Damn. It’s working.
The five questions are working. What good are they if they don’t make me get out of the proverbial comfort zone? Their purpose is to make me more aware, to make me a better person, to grasp the truth of myself and the world around me — not what passes for truth when we are too busy to see. The five questions are making me look at my own weaknesses. God, I hate that.
There it is. This blog. I don’t want to do it. Which is why I have to. I guess this is what I need to learn to love next — my own resistance. Putting it out there every day whether I like it or not. Really living the questions.
It would be so much easier to stop. So much easier to fold back in.
The end of the Rilke poem says it all. I think this blog may be my ship in the wildest storm.
I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
And I want my grasp of things
true before you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,
like a saying that I finally understood,
like the pitcher I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that took me safely
through the wildest storm of all.