I gave up blogging for Lent. It was an interesting experience.
Originally, I was giving up the Interenet for Lent. That lasted, oh, forty-eight hours. I am a stay-at-home mother with significant health issues, and some days the only significant intellectual interaction I have with people over the age of sixteen is on peoples’ blogs.
Instead, I simply didn’t blog myself. I had gotten to a point of obsessiveness. I was thinking about blogging all the time, even though I was not writing all that much: everything become potential post fodder, considered and discarded according to its possible readability. I was checking my site-meter stats to see if anyone was reading me — and who, and where from. I became, as my friend Jen put it, like those people who go through life looking through the lens of a camera, who can’t simply look at things without needing to take pictures of them. I would joke that I needed one of these shirts.
So I took time off. I started experiencing things for themselves. Or not — I found myself much less dialed into to current events, the scandal du jour of the Bush administration (both Walter Reed and the prosecutors scandal broke during Lent) and the turmoil in the Anglican Communion. I found myself struck by outrage-fatigue. I wasn’t trying to communicate what was important to anyone, so I found myself saying “What does it all matter? Nobody’s paying attention anyway.” The act of writing about what is going on the world helps keep me engaged in the world.
I still have decisions to make about the direction I take this blog. In the past I have written both personal posts and political posts. I’m not sure if that dichotomy has served me well. I would like to actually attract a steady readership (which means, of course, I have to settle into a steady writing routine.)
I’m sure I’ll still be feeling my way. But for now, at least, I’m back.