What I Learned From NaBloPoMo

I learned about National Blog Post Month by accident.

You might think that someone who has been writing a basically-weekly blog for six and a half years would know that there was a full month dedicated to blogging (a verb I detest, just for the record). In my case, though, National Blog Post Month had either never been on my radar or it ended up grouped in with other forgotten pieces of information, like phone numbers of high school friends or what I was looking for when I walked into the living room this morning.

National Blog Post Month (which translates to the ridiculous hashtag #NaBloPoMo) is designed to challenge writers to publish a new blog post every day of November. The idea is that publishing daily – as opposed to weekly or less often – forces the writer to silence their inner editor more so they can write more, publish more and just see what happens. Too often, writers will hesitate to write a piece because “I don’t know what to say,” “No one wants to read what I write” or any number of other hesitations that really all just boil down to a lack of self-confidence. NaBloPoMo becomes a sort of accountability group that pushes writers to meet goals and spur their creativity. Continue reading “What I Learned From NaBloPoMo”

Being Afraid to Click “Publish”

There is always a certain degree of anxiety before I click the little blue button that sends my words out into the internet ether. It comes with the territory of demonstrating vulnerability, of opening myself up to disagreement and criticism. Even with the knowledge that I hardly have all the answers, there is still the fear of being shown that the point of view I thought was logical was based on a faulty premise. There is still the fear of being proven wrong and, its close cousin, the fear of being ridiculed or shamed as a result.

Certainly, I feel reassured by the fact that the overwhelming majority of my readers are supportive. They – you, really, since you are reading this – are my family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances or some combination therein. I believe that my readers are interested in the stories I tell and the opinions I express. To that end, I believe that they want me to succeed in growing this blog and in using the platform I have created to continue communicating my thoughts and experiences.

Still, to say that I do not have reason to be afraid or anxious would be naive. There may not be any way for me to safeguard against every potential extreme reaction to a post; the only way to prevent any and all reactions would to avoid writing anything in the first place. But, last week, not only did I choose to write, I chose to tackle the most intensely personal of topics. I chose to offer an opinion about a matter that some might argue I shouldn’t be allowed to have an opinion on in the first place (remember – no uterus).

I was afraid to publish last week’s post about adoption and abortion because the most personal subjects usually bring out the most severe reactions. I obviously am not privy to the intimate details of all of my readers’ experiences with either of these topics and I was afraid that writing about them would trigger emotional attacks rather than thoughtful responses. Plus, in recent years, the political and media landscapes have become so polarized that any acknowledgements of nuance or complexity are often dismissed automatically as the enemy; “If you’re not with us – in every single way – you’re against us.”

I was looking to spark conversation but I was worried that I was going to ignite controversy instead.

Fortunately, my readers – again, that includes you – showed me that the trust I place in them by revealing my inner thoughts each week was not misdirected. I received more comments on that post, both publicly and privately, than just about any other post I’ve ever published. My breath caught in my throat as I read through each one; I only allowed myself to exhale once I realized that the writer was accepting my invitation to conversation, rather than lashing out in anger. There were no personal attacks, no mentions of my lack of a uterus and no recommendations for places I should stick certain objects or body parts. Even the people who disagreed with me did so by hearing my points, bringing up theirs and continuing the discussion.1

It was exactly what I had hoped for.

I don’t know how often I’ll continue to grapple with these topics on my blog in the future. I enjoy telling stories more than opining about the current state of our union but there have been a number of times recently when I’ve felt that political events were too important to pass up. I will say that, after seeing the responses to last week’s post, I’m optimistic that any future complex topics I decide to grapple with won’t lead to quite as much anxiety as this last one did.


1. My ego remained intact throughout the process, which is critical, of course, because a cis-gendered white man’s ego is always the most important – and, often fragile – part of any debate.


Featured image by Jonny Lindner from Pixabay

New Year’s Non-Resolutions

The end of the year tends to spur people into becoming reflective. I’d argue that I tend to be fairly reflective most of the time anyway but there is something about the end of a year and the start of the new one that makes me think on a slightly broader scale. I live much of my life focused on the present; what tasks need to be completed, why are the kids crying, how do I get from point A to point B, etc. There are so many small fires to be put out that I sometimes forget about finding ways to stop them from starting in the first place. That is what this time of year is for: taking stock of where we were and what we’ve done and making decisions and plans for the coming year.  Continue reading “New Year’s Non-Resolutions”

Why Do I Do This?

Why?

Such weight for such a small word.

The other question words – who, what, where, when and how, just in case you’re a bit more removed from early elementary school grammar lessons – have their places and are important in their own rights. They are our primary avenues for obtaining information about an event. They help us find out facts by providing tangible, concrete information. They are straightforward; who was there, when did it happen, where did they go. “Why” is less obvious, though. Why deals with intent. Why is about cause and motivation and reason. Who and what and where are fairly easy; the answers may not always be readily apparent, but there is usually a way to find those answers. Why is murkier, though. While the other interrogatives exist in black and white, “why” floats through the ether in various hues of grey.  Continue reading “Why Do I Do This?”

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