February, I’m breaking up with youPosted: 28/02/2010
28 days ago, I decided to reflect about you, in one way or another, every day. Over the course of the past four weeks, I have somehow managed to eek out something about you every evening, regardless of how immature, disorganized, excited, or stressed it might have been.
I have learned that I have mixed feelings about how much of myself I share in this place. While writing about my daily life once a week feels liberating and creative, actually writing about my daily life every day frankly feels self-absorbed. About the time I figured that out, I started posting things like this. I’m torn between knowing that a good project takes a lot of hard work, and remembering that I think some of my best posts come out of a naturally born, wellspring desire to express myself.
Being a perfectionist when it comes to writing and the understanding of ideas, I don’t like haphazardly throwing up posts like this one. On one hand, I know that learning emerges from the process of working out ideas. On the other hand, it feels far too vulnerable sometimes to expose a not-yet-formed me to, at times, strangers. This anonymous internet in which you reside, February, is a much more rocky place than I anticipated.
Perhaps at the heart of our differences is my own lack of decision about what I want this blog to be. Is it a place for me to reflect, theologically, on where I am in a post-seminary world? Or is it my online space to write about my ever-evolving domestic activities? Do I want to share my political and religious views in this space? And yet, how can I not, when they are so fundamentally related to what I consider to be my way of practicing just living? Is this a platform for me to project my hopes and my fears out into the world? And if so, am I willing to accept the consequences of what that might mean in a public domain?
Someday, February, you and I might just work out in the long haul. There were things I really liked about you: you were playful, you were exciting, and you forced me to really try to consciously make sense at least one thing that happened to me every day. But for now, we have to go back to how it was before I met you. I’m not ready yet for this kind of commitment. We gave it a good try, and I really feel like I’ve learned a lot from you.
Thanks for everything. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday.
PS: February, these are some of the most memorable times I think we’ve had together:
Cutest post (duh, this one has a cat in it)