That process always annoys me.
For one thing, there is a huge world beyond those places and as someone who makes a living helping others market themselves and their businesses, it irks me that my marketing sphere is limited, apparently by choice.
For another thing, it annoys me to have to
push promote my stuff at all. Why can’t I just be happy with it up here, written and lovely, regardless of who sees it? Is this for me or is this for others?
And for yet another, every day I question why I even spend time on those sites. I think about closing my accounts/profiles and moving on. But then I remember that I need them to help get a message out. Which does seem a bit ironic.
After all, this blog doesn’t pay my bills. This site does, but not this blog. This writing is not where I make my living. Sometimes it pisses me off because it isn’t those things and I feel like it should be and I am not exactly sure what I need to do to get there. Or if it is important to get “there.” I am paid to write for other businesses, for other people. Not to write here. It is ironic and weird but also kind of cool.
And, yet, despite all of that or maybe because of it, it is my therapy. My outlet. My air on some days. It is the means through which I initially connected with some of my favorite people in the world. The feedback I get from others because of something I might have written here often acts like a fuel to keep me going, writing more. When I say “I live in your head and write about it here,” I mean it. I know it is a gift, and I know it is as important to me as it is to some of you.
I purposely don’t check my web traffic statistics; I
wasted spent a lot of time playing with Google Analytics a few years back when I first discovered it, and while it is valuable for so many purposes, it was a massive time suck for me. A form of Resistance, really. (Oh, and I also have no idea how many people subscribe to my blog through RSS or email or whatever those Feedburner things are. Maybe better not to know.) Sure, it is incredibly amusing to discover the ways, sometimes-hilarious, that people end up on your site or blog (“Allison Nazarian divorce” or “formal dining room table,” for instance, are some of the tamer ones), but ultimately there was no value in it for me.
When I started this writing experiment a few months ago, I purposely had no plan and no blueprint. My left-brain screamed out for order and structure, but the rest of me was adamant:
Just write every day for this blog. Publish the blog post. Repeat the next day. Take a break Saturday and Sunday. No expectations, no exceptions. Period.
I have stuck to my commitment. Which in and of itself is kind of interesting and cool for me. I really don’t even think about it anymore, I just do it. Sort of like quitting sugar and going gluten-free last year. In the beginning, I thought about it a lot and there were struggles, questions, bargaining, resistance. Now, it is automatic and I think about it significantly less.
So for no reason at all, or maybe because I didn’t have an idea of what I was going to write when I sat down here this morning and this seems different and interesting to me, I am not going to tell anyone on twitter or Facebook or anywhere about this blog post. I am not going to create a short link through my AllisonN.com URL. I won’t even text my boyfriend the link.
It lives, but maybe no one but me will know about it. And that’s OK.
If you’ve read this far, you have read the proverbial tree in the forest blog post. I thank you and I commend you for your smarts :).
Now I will go and write something that someone is paying me to write. Sigh. And thank you.
Update about one hour later: I have had several instances, already, in which I wanted to mention this post publicly or one-one one, or direct someone else to it. I kept my mouth shut and my fingers still.