Showing posts with label on bloggers and blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label on bloggers and blogging. Show all posts

Angstless in LA
Thursday, December 11, 2008

It's DECEMBER???? WHAT THE HELL?

Anyhow. I've been having this conversation as of late with a couple different people. And I could be totally off on this one, but I'm thinking that blogging is better - even writing for that matter - when it's being used as an outlet for some sort of angst. I would have been an AMAAAAAAAAAAZING blogger when I moved to LA. Just ask any of my close friends who had to put a limit on the number of times a day I could call them. I was oozing angst.

Or when I was single living in NYC. I met with a writer the other day (for an hour and 45 minutes by the way. That sets the record for my longest writer meeting ever. Except, of course, for the first "meeting" I had with my husband...but that doesn't count.) who said she was sort of glad to be single because if she were in a long term relationship, she's really unsure what the hell she'd write about.

I know exactly what she means. I'm not feeling so much angst these days. I have my moments and I'm all too sure that I will have many a meltdown in the not-so-distant future, that life won't feel quite so even, that I will want different things, wish for something new, feel like my brain is going to explode, have moments of "why can't this just..." and "when will I ever...".

But for now, I'm sort of...dare I say it...content. And content makes for boring blogging I think. I'm sort of uninspired. Although I can tell you that my baking extravaganza this weekend will give me plenty of food for thought. I can't even believe I just wrote that. Food for thought. SEE!?!??!?!?!?!

I sometimes wonder if I'm just not a good writer. If I were, wouldn't I be able to pull something out of my ass at a moment's notice for the sake of the blog? Wouldn't I be able to go back to that time of angst and channel it to write something poignant, funny and touching all at once? Wouldn't I be able to paint a picture of that day seven years ago, that moment in the middle of Times Square, that time when I thought I would never recover? Maybe I can. Maybe I haven't tried hard enough...I don't know.

I know I have thoughts in moments in the middle of downward dog that I think would be a really smart piece of writing. I write the whole thing in my head as I move through my (modified for pregnancy) vinyasa. But by the time I get home, it's gone. I remember the general feeling, but the words...they're just not there.

I wish I'd written more at certain times in my life. I could have done wonders with my mid-20's in Manhattan, my late 20's in LA...among other times. My head was constantly swirling with questions, anxiety, endless clutter and conversation.

But for now, my head isn't really swirling much at all. I've managed to find zen in the past six and a half months. Like I got knocked up and something switched inside my brain telling me that I needed to just roll with the punches a bit more because from this point forward, there was going to be a hell of a lot more out of my control than had ever been before. And so that's the way I've been living. I've had a few meltdowns here and there. And I've wished I was closer to a computer when they've happened. But by the time I sit down to write it down, it's over and done with and I've moved on. I find myself wondering what the point of rehashing is. And so, I don't.

So I'm angstless and blogless. But I'm happy.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 4:46 PM 1 comments  

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MIA
Thursday, July 17, 2008

I'm not feeling it these days. I mean, I'm feeling lots of things. But my attempt to put the thoughts swirling in my head into words on a page has found me staring aimlessly at my screen wondering what I was attempting to do in the first place.

And it's not just that I feel like my writing sucks (because as some of you know - or at least I know - I am an overly critical person on my best days and downright judgmental of and hard on myself on my worst.) It's that nothing is coming out. Nothing.

I can't even come up with a list of things I could write about. My head is spinning with the already memories of our trip, making plans for the holidays (yes, I am a totally neurotic and insane planner. I own it.) among other trips, trying to decide if we should get Thursday a friend to keep her company because as fabulous as we are, only dogs speak dog.

And yet, amidst all this, I've been remarkably present. Remarkably in the now. Remarkably aware of the lack of control I have over MOST of the things in my life. And remarkably, I've been ok with all of this.

It's leaving me with little angst and perhaps that's where my lack of intelligent prose has been locked away. With my angst. I can't say I miss it so much. I'm enjoying it. But I know me and you know me and of course the angst will return. Probably with an insane vengeance.

I hope, however, that my ability to write shows up again before the angst. Until then, I'll keep staring until it hits me, as it did today, to acknowledge the fact that I've been very MIA.



Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 6:02 PM 3 comments  

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Structure
Friday, February 22, 2008

Lately it seems the thoughts are coming so quickly and rampantly that they start to overlap each other. They accelerate as though they're going downhill without breaks but by the time I get myself to the computer, they're gone. There are remnants, general themes left swirling around. But the lines of prose that popped into my brain as I walked down the street or watched my friends from a slight distance or breathed deeply in downward dog...they're all gone. Poof. Disappeared into thin air and I can't think of anything remotely smart or interesting to say.

Normally, the more I do, the more I want to do. I am stimulated by activity. But the writing is seemingly undone right now. I am invigorated and excited and exacerbated - all at the same time sometimes, but I'm struggling to translate it to the world, to words.

I think some of it stems from my lack on anonymity. There are things that I'm not sure I want to share with those that know me as much as I am willing to expose to the few dear readers I have that only know me from my words on the page. Because with those that are just a part of each others lives via the blogosphere, there are no attachments or expectations. We read each other because something grabs us. Because we can relate to each other or because we entertain. We experience new and different things through each other but also, we relate to each other and feel less alone. We sometimes live vicariously, but we also live parallely. There are no judgments or expectations. I feel good when something great happens for them. I can relate to many of their wants and hopes and fears. I read other blogs and they're anything but simple, but my relationship to them is simple. They are simply a name attached to a whole world that I get to know and see solely through their eyes. I read them with compassion and desire to know more. To understand who they are and what they are experiencing in their lives. Sometimes I long to reach through the internet and hug them, tight and close - the kind of hugs that people don't give often enough these days. Not one of those half hugs or the hug where they stand with their body about 200 feet away from yours and then gently tap you on the back with their other hand. Hugs are meant to wrap two people together. Sometimes I ache so deeply from the words of another person that I read that I want to wrap my affection around them and give them a hug. Sometimes they bring me to tears with their ability to expose themselves, to relate their worlds and their wants and their hurts and their triumphs so brilliantly.

It's actually quite simple. It all comes down to the ability to be vulnerable. And this is a medium that allows that in ways that being with other people sometimes does not. I'm aching for vulnerability these days. I rejoice in sitting with people who aren't afraid to admit that they don't have the answers. I am proud to be the person to ask for help. I love exploring life and the world with others. I feel stronger admitting that in moments I am weak. I am uninterested in putting on a good face - especially in this LA land of so many good faces under false pretenses. I don't live a perfect life (I know that's totally shocking...heh. heheh.) and I don't feel the need to pretend I do either. And I want to be around people who appreciate that. Because that is just real. And how do you truly squeeze all the juice out of life unless you're being real and true? I've liked my OJ fresh squeezed since I was 3 and I like my life that way too - pulp and even a few seeds here and there.

I told you - it's all swimming in there bursting to come out but unable to come together with beginnings, middles, and ends. But maybe that's because this is all just sort of open ended. In fact, I'd venture to say it's just the tip of the beginning.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:24 PM 1 comments  

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