I fear I may be having a minor crisis of conviction.
When I say "minor", in actual fact, I mean: paralysing.
Do you ever feel like you're in critical information overload...?
Is it feasible to say that the creative process can be crippled by an excess of stimulus? A glut of facts, news, reviews, opinions, trivia...?
God help me I'm drowning in it. Verily, I tell you.
Is it just me, or does anybody else find it weird that in this society it is possible to distract yourself every. single. second. of. the. day.
Worse yet, it is expected.
Sometimes I can't hear myself for the static.
And I can't help the nagging feeling that by blogging I am merely adding to the static. Is it irresponsible? Is it pure narcissm?
Why do I do it?
I seem to have misplaced my blogging raison d'être.
(Luckily for me, however, there are a myriad of excellent bloggers out there who have not lost their mojo. There is a steadily growing number of bloggers whose work I read faithfully. It has become part of my daily routine, along with the morning coffee and checking out the major magazines and newspapers).
What is it that draws us to blogging? What is it that draws us to read others' blogs? It is virtually impossible to define blogs in general - they can be so many different things: journals, exercises in creative writing, opinions, essays - so what is it, exactly, that draws us back again and again?
Is it the fact that each blog has it's own distinct personality - ie, the personality of the author? (Give me a blog over a dry, antiseptic newspaper article any day, for example).
Is it the fact that each and every blogger is chronicling their struggle with the human condition, in their own unique and individual way? There can be a very real sense of connection as we, as readers, recognise and/or sympathise with another writer's particular observations.
Blogs are also singular in the way that they encourage an ongoing dialogue. The writer can (and often does) get instant feedback from their readers. (Or reader, as the case may be. Thanks Mum).
There is, however, a certain amount of self-absorption that occurs with the act of blogging. How do you overcome this? How do you transform it?
How do I shake the feeling that I'm merely one of the seething hordes longing to be discovered and transported to riches and fame?
The good doctors over at SC&A published an excellent and thought provoking article by a Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, entitled "The Academy Awards: When Court Jesters Become Kings" (I know it sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but bear with me).
Article comments
1 - Eric Berlin
Really interesting post, Kirsten, that hits on a lot thoughts and feelings that I'll bet many of we teeming blogging hordes have from time-to-time. I know I do.
What do I do? I try and unplug every once in a while: no Internet, cold turkey. After the shakes subside, I can relax and read The New York Times like I used to do in the old days (with cup of coffee, obviously!).
I think it's easy to get up in that thing, too, that all writers have: what do I have to say that's so great or important, that no one else is saying? The answer, of course, is that your voice is your voice and that it adds something valuable and interesting and unique to the mix.
I'll bet that the act of writing this post alone will cure some of your mojo-blues. Let us know if that's true.
2 - Eric Olsen
yes, great one Kirsten: it is always bracing when someone takes a step back and says WTF. I agree with Eric that when you feel overloaded, simplify, and focus on something meaningful to you. I find that alternating between news, critiquing and blabbing about personal experiences keeps it pretty fresh
3 - kirsten
Eric and Eric,
Thank you. You are both dead right. It did help to write this piece, and I will make some time to step back a bit, and take stock. For me I believe it has become an issue of delineating boundaries between the private, virtual, and professional. Time for a reshuffle, methinks!
Very interesting business, the whole blogging thing...