I love to write. It is a vent for me sometimes… a creative exhaust that serves to decompress my thinking- it helps me meet some innate need to share with others while at the same time organizes my thoughts.
This is why it troubles me that I haven’t been writing as of late. I’ll be driving down the road, some concept or idea comes to mind and there is a brief moment of excitement. A moment where I think ‘This is something I’d like to share my views about’ or ‘I think I could bring out a unique perspective on this’. The moment hangs- like an inflated balloon that isn’t tied off… whirling about briefly, but slowly losing the energy it initially began with- until it deflates entirely and my mind is left to wander to some other half inflated idea.
I started a journal in high school- firstly out of a requirement for a particularly nasty, militant English teacher (he could be the subject of another post entirely) but then out of a need for some private disclosure. Why does anyone start to journal after all? For any of you who journal, you likely share the understanding that somehow the very writing of your thoughts organizes them, helps you re-assess them, puts them into perspective; simply therapeutic at times. Well- this blog was meant to help find a public venue for some of those organized thoughts- some of those that I felt others might be able to extract something from or find use of comparing it with their own thoughts and ideals. I didn’t initially anticipate using it to vent personally- at least not to the extent where I unlock all the doors- but as I follow other bloggers I come to understand how liberating it must be for them to be raw- real- in a venue that is so open and so accessible. In short- they don’t care what anyone thinks. Ever feel like being more like that?
I’m not saying that it is right or wrong to be one way or the other. Great that you share everything that comes into your head- but the price for that often comes at the emotional expense of others for whom you failed to think about the true consequences of your words. Conversely, if you share nothing- the price then comes at the depth of the relationships you can forge. Share nothing and you may find yourself alone in even the most crowded of places.
So where is the happy medium? Where can you exist where you can share enough that helps show your humanity, without sharing so much that you trespass on other’s humanity? Is it even possible? Perhaps it is a lifelong balancing act- one that requires us to experiment and find that perfect place where we can fulfill expression. Perhaps, however, the balance is in the eye of the beholder. Expression by painters for example- have you ever seen a painting which captured your attention completely? Where you completely understood what the painter was trying to convey? Have you ever seen a painting that offended you- that the very sight of the painting caused you to call into question the morals or intentions of the artist? Likely you’ve experienced both in some capacity- so how can anyone ever strike the perfect balance if that balance not only relies on you- but on the perception of those beholding you?
Today- I’m not sure where I am on those precarious scales- but at least I am writing. 
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Tags: Experience, Fears, Perception, Persevere, Personal Development
I love the imagery of a writing idea being like an inflated balloon…so many of mine whirl about until out of air and become lost or forgotten. I think you are right in that the balance between sharing too little and sharing too much are a dance between author and reader. The most important thing is that you write at all – silence isn’t offensive but it doesn’t say much either.
Thanks for the thoughts to ponder!
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