“Cause I thought you should know
that this is not an open book”
Mates of State – Open Book
It’s been pretty quiet here on the blog recently. The reasons, in the main, are the usual reasons this blog periodically goes silent. Time gets filled with chores and tasks, work gets busier, it gets hard to carve out those little chunks of time I use to write these things.
As well as the tiredness and the lack of time, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about how much I really want to share on here, and why. When I was young, I used to consider myself a pretty private person, and I certainly found it difficult to talk about my feelings (with the result that they would build up and build up, then release themselves in not always the most constructive manner – the emotional ketchup burst as Douglas Coupland called it).
I now suspect that I was more open a person than I realised, but my adolescent, and post-adolescent awkwardness prevented me from seeing I was able to share. Over time, my life had changed, and I have changed, the the point where I perhaps feel a little too comfortable sharing, happily yabbering on about the minutiae of my life, and my deepest thoughts and feelings, both in person and on this blog.
I’ve reached the point where there is very little I wouldn’t be prepared to share on here, were it not for a couple of things. Firstly, I write this under my real name. In my working life, I’m an accountant. Whilst I have my doubts that my current or prospective employers will be trawling through every word of my blog, you never know. I have hardly lived a life of scandal, but there is the odd thing I might not want them to know and therefore will not write about. You’ll have to read my other secret blog for that. Just kidding of course, I don’t really have a secret second blog (or do I?)
The more important reason for limiting what I share is that it is hard for me to write about my life, without also writing about the lives of those I care most about. I may be happy to put myself out into the world, or the internet at least, but my family and friends may not be quite so happy to have their lives laid bare. There is least one person I have upset by thoughtlessly failing to consider the impact of something I had written.
At least they were able to tell me so. My kids do not yet know this blog exists. As they are 4 years old and 18 months respectively, right now, I doubt they would care. But what will they think in later life? How will they feel about having stories of their childhood available for all to read on the internet? If they are embarrassed by things I have written about myself, they may just have to cope with that. If they are embarrassed about something I have written about them, I feel that I would be in the wrong. Should I pre-empt this by not writing about them any more? Should I delete what I have already written? I have already removed their names and pictures from this blog. A child growing up today cannot avoid leaving a digital footprint, but as much as possible I want that footprint to be theirs to create.
Ultimately, I think I will leave what I have written of my childrens’ early years in place, until they or someone else suggests otherwise, but I will inevitably write about them less in future. It’s a shame, as I think my writing is at its’ best when I am writing of something I love, and there is nothing I love more than them. Plus, for some strange reason, everyone seems to love pictures of my cute children more than my ramblings about my latest obscure musical passions. But, I will continue to write here, intermittently, because I love to do it, and my ego, such as it is, still wants readers, even if only a few.
This blog may no longer be an open book, but I hope I will still manage to write some things that deserve to read.