I ask myself alot why I put stuff out there. I think there’s two reasons to explain with the limitless characters of writing stories allows when you create a blog.
Why do I do keep writing whatever comes to mind? I could be doing many other things and writing stories versus typing stories is like whether you’re going to watch the whole series today or take the easy way and go upstairs and tell a story on the podcast. Which is also a soon to be over it word that caught on to the masses during the 2020 lock-ins. I can make a recording in one take. I’ll probably proof, reproof, re-explain, re-phrase, check Grammarly, read again, post it, edit it, edit it again, and still find something when you’re proofing it on mobile as the final screening.
Which by the way, I am SO over the word blog. I don’t like the way it feels when it comes out of your mouth. The other four-letter words are fine, but saying blog makes the effort your mouth and throat have to do to get it rolling off your tongue are the same muscle efforts it takes to vomit.
Say blog slow. Now dry heave. See?
I want to quit using the word blog and instead call these my stories in written form. These are my thoughts and how I would try to say it if we were standing next to one another having an ole chit chat about the topic if it were brought up.
Reason 1: It’s living conversation documentation, a peek into what makes me tick so when I’m gone, I’m still out there to be read like old letters you find in the tin box after you move into an old house. Or love letters from grandparents to one another. Maybe my future descendants will be interested.
Sharing stories, in any form, is a must for us all. If only a handful of people ever read, observe or listen to my stories, I hope it’s the people that want to know more about me and possibly more about themselves by trying to write, display or tell theirs.
Reason 2: The best of all is when my story lights up a whole new topic with someone else and they share their story. It’s like tossing a stone into standing water and watch ripples go out, like when the wave pool kicks on and everyone screams with excitement.
So I write. Because sometimes, I just want to write in quiet mind space while binging TV in the background or switching laundry or mowing grass.
Writing is different than talking to someone else or recording your voice sharing the story. When getting ready to do any of these options, deciding how to tell my story means allowing my thoughts to roll around quietly inside while I work outside with exercising to help make body and mind blend together.
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate work from home gig? Well, maybe. If it’s your story. Sometimes it’s hard to blend when it’s for other people and you’ve got, you know, the block. Writer’s block. I really want to figure out why it’s real and how to get past it.
I get the block. I’ve learned that if I don’t block time for quiet thinking, it gets worse. Blocking time to avoid writer’s block is about being aware of too many extrovert requirements outside with interaction responsibilities, I can’t find the words within the introvert time to create anything for anyone, even myself. Plus I get into alot of story telling around others, even strangers sometimes, but I really don’t mind. I find it so interesting and connected.
Writing is one way of creating something that tells a story. There’s others within art.
There’s art you create and there’s art that relates. Art that connects you to a memory. There are stories of how and why anyone can use art to tell stories, even the art of conversation.
There’s many ways to tell your story without writing it down. We share stories about who we are in all sorts of ways. Here we go.
Conversation starters through things you display.
One story will trigger another, resulting in a conversation called getting to know one another beyond weather and football.
I feel I don’t mind opening up about something if it means someone else can openly share theres. by finding the reason someone is either connecting with me or the opposite, someone I’d rather not ever connect with again.
It’s a living conversation. I get a lot of curious people to ask me about something I’ve chosen to display. Isn’t it funny how as you morph into a new demographic, or stages defined by milestones such as school-age, teenager, graduation, college student, spouse, parent etc… happens, you change something about what you display as a reflection of what you’re currently drawn to?
And just like that… Heather took down her unicorn pictures to hang up a latest hair band magazine tear out. Next thing y ou know she’s leaving her mural attempts for a light beige paint with Dollar General Van Gogh prints to getting your Joanna on at TJ Max, Marshalls and Home Goods. Don’t forget Gabe’s.
I feel like you carry pieces of what took hold of your style over the years. I don’t make closed doors actual abstract paintings anymore, but I tend to like painting things anyway but I doubt Etsy would want me. It’s all cricut world now and as Moira would say, “steady hand I am not”.
AS you change some things still get homage from your history. I have a Van Gogh coffee mug, and a very strong hair band playlist. You keep pieces of you along the way when they were enjoyed enough to make your living space displays.
My quirkiness with all art of reflection is that I still do it for myself and very close circle who either really like it or pretend to since they’re stuck with Heather made gifts. Like that clay art the kids bring home from school that’ you’ll cherish forever but not sure where to store it. I find better success passing on cool decor so I make more room for my quirky stuff.
ReStores and Salvation Army temp me these days as well. I still have that ‘make it my own’ flair with a hard-working husband who doesn’t want to take his one Sunday to recreate furniture with me. Muh. He’s really good when he can. And usually right.
‘Let’s do that when we don’t have to work so much’. Indeed. Indeed. I’ll take a motorcycle ride followed by bloody marys and a cookout any day.
But what if we could?
Back to the story.
Speaking to the decor part of it, I have a theory to support my theory that the constant push for creeping up the calendar for seasonal decor has created a mass overlap. It’s Halloween and they’ve had Thanksgiving, fall and Christmas trees up for several weeks. Over time it keeps happening. You can get Octoberfest in August. We are now forced to have so many reminders of what’s coming up next to prepare for that we have forgotten how to just live in the moment ahead of us. We don’t get the option to enjoy the present.
Saturday morning cartoons will be forgotten with 24/7 streaming of any cartoon you ever wanted any season or episode. Even Hallmark wised up and plays Christmas movies all year long. We can either escape to our favorite time of past and be depressed it isn’t or we can think of all the shit it takes to ‘be ready’ for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas all in the same top of mind as it’s everywhere. Multi-tasking at it’s finest.
The case for personalized displays within your home allow me to justify that there’s something on a deeper level. That perhaps the styles you can choose from that are constantly evolving through HGTV personalities, Pinterest, Waco and such are merely the base for your backdrop.
It’s whether you want to keep the stories more focused on where you found it and the deal you got on it – which is totally plausible and sometimes all I got, or you could go a level further in the back and forth sharing of communication by explaining what you likes about it or made it a must have purchase to display.
By mixing a hodge podge of stuff you made, stuff you find that fits your style, stuff you collected over your milestones, vacation mementos and special moments
The decor you display is also what you want to project and sometimes we spend more time projecting what we want others to perceive about us versus the vulnerability of displaying who we truly are. Others can decide what you’re projecting, only you can decide who you are.
Wardrobe, make up and hairstyles are also freedom of showing who you are while evolving over time into who you are meant to be.
I remember donating my last pair of heels and exhaling. I love a strong woman rocking heels and the instant confidence they project. I actually feel more comfortable in who I am today to ask if I really like to wear them and the answer is no. I do not anymore. I prefer shoes that feel good and do not limit me on any terrain I face.
Shoulder pads, hammer pants, snap crotch onesies and stirrup pants have all lived in my closet at one time or another but they do not today. That’s ok. And it’s ok if you want to make a statement with every outfit you strategically coordinate with pristine full-on face wear. That’s wonderful.
The important part is that you are you and when you wear or look the way you want, you feel stronger, happier, healthier and ready to take on the world.
Dig in to your closet or clothes racks and ask what makes you feel comfortable, confident, and that it’s an extension of who you are inside.
There are many people who may not have as large of a spectrum of understanding but have seen or known people who have had similar exposures of joy or pain so have a smaller range of understanding but empathy abounds.
Then there’s that group that do not, and by saying too much vulnerable in their presence makes them uncomfortable around you because they don’t have the wordsmithing or triggered memory story to share back with you on your road to validation and value. You might’ve went too deep down the rabbit hole again, Heather.
I find I tend to do best with people who display their own authenticity because their spectrum of positive and negative experiences have given them a level of vulnerability that helps you learn about them in a more real lens, whether agree or not.
I think maybe it’s because if you watched Jenny Slate on Netflix talk about living in an open family that agreed the house was haunted, you’d know hers is much more extreme than mine, I just have an extended family that all know and agree it can happen and here’s why – type stories to share, too.
At least it’s shared in light humor.
Basically I gotta know my audience and when I am typing stories and clicking the publish button, I’m giving up that ability to chose who consumes it.
Yet with reading words, it takes commitment so I would assume the latter uncomfortable folks won’t read past the headline and maybe, one day, when they experience things that make the vulnerability polar ends to spread further and further apart, they’ll remember a headline and reflect back on what it may have said. Who knows. That’s the optimist in me that everything will be alright someday.
Thanks for reading,