My Year as a Blogger

“We stayed at home to write, to consolidate

our outstretched selves.”

~Sylvia Plath

I’m not exactly sure why, but I’ve put off this post for weeks–and I’m glad that the day has grown gloomy so that I can hide while I write.

Loving a blog is like crossing the tracks.  (Loving blogging is something else altogether.)

That said, I’ve spent a year at it.  An entire year blogging.  I began with my namesake blog last spring and to my surprise continued to reproduce blogs–until there were 6 of them begging for attention.  (Conversely, I stopped after 2 children and only one pet frog who died years ago.)

“I don’t know how you do it,” tweets author Katrina Kenison, saying that she loves reading ALL my blogs.

For me the question is not how I do it, but WHY I do it (and how can I afford to do it?)

Some of my favorite bloggers–Katrina, Jennifer Louden, Penelope Trunk–already have a name for themselves.  Blogging is something they do to keep it out there.

But how about us anonymous bloggers?  Someone without a best-selling book (or any book), someone without speaking engagements (unless you count my sister’s wedding), someone without a 6 figure income (speaking of figures, why is it so hard to find a bathing suit?)

That’s what I’m really doing now–shopping for bathing suits.  I’m typing a few lines here and there on this post while I wait for the next tankini to load.

Confession~Not only am I an unknown blogger, but I “do it” with…dial up!

There! Crucify me now!! No wonder I’ve been hiding from writing this post.  Who in their right mind blogs with dial up!

But I LOVE blogging.  I do.  I don’t know why.  I love it so much that I’ll do it without pay, and without eating, and without taking a shower, and without being able to explain myself to others.

Like you.

What’s worse is that I know I’m not alone.  I know there are countless others out there blogging for the same non-reasons.  Just because we love it.  (See how many hits you get when you Google, “Confessions of a Blogger.”)

Wow, these bathing suits are taking forever to load…

But now that I’ve spent an entire year at blogging, it’s time.

I know it’s time.

I just don’t know what it’s time for.

And I almost fell off the wagon this spring and took another teaching job because I can’t tolerate the ambiguity.

I’m still at risk.  Maybe I need a blogging sponsor.

I do fantasize about being “discovered,” but that didn’t work out too well for Julie who never met Julia and ended up cheating on her husband and writing a second book on butchery.

I plan to stay pleasantly  married–with my boys in the rear view mirror–while I prioritize being “me” over being successful.

Dial up sucks.

I don’t want the big career of my dreams where I end up exhausted from book tours and speaking engagements and week-long retreats (though I appreciate the others who went before me to reveal this ruse.)  But I do want something bigger. I just don’t know what.

Time to scroll back to the top of this post to see where I was heading.

I know that the other Julia doesn’t recommend the process of returning to the beginning again–but it’s how I write.  Every time I hit an intersection, I work my way back from the beginning and attach from there.

What am I attached to as a blogger?

I am attached to the careful reflection of my life, to the connection with a wider audience than my  husband at bedtime, and to something more–the ability to see my “worlds” intersect.

Each of my blogs is a mirror of my life’s expression. From parenting to marriage, to loss and spirit, to work and to this life we’re carving in the mountains of Vermont.

Each day I take pleasure in surveying my blogs like a landlord and a mother and a lover–all rolled up into one.  I see what needs tending.  I find out who is hungry.  I look inside to discover what’s wanting to be offered.

I can sense that I’m ready to move further in this direction of self-expression, contribution and return…

Yes, return, that would be very nice.  A nice big return!

Of course, every time I get an email from a reader telling me how her life has been shaped by my words, I have no doubt that writing is my calling.  It’s the one thing that I can do, day in and day out, without giving up a part of myself.

That’s why I blog.  Because in it, I offer my everything.

Kelly Salasin, late spring 2010

Petite, size 8, DD, in rich brown please.

(Note:  This post is another prayer bead in my Life Purpose Series, click here to see more.)