We’re near the end of NaBloPoMo. I really can’t believe I’ve made it this far. I panic about NaBloPoMo nearly everyday for reasons such as: a) I don’t have anything to write about b) I don’t have time to write and publish and c) my Wi Fi doing the disappearing act, and being naughty enough to come back again just when I’ve given up. This compulsion is a contradiction for an anxious person, who frequently writes about anxiety. You see, I started this blog for fun, to write for myself. I wanted to do something that did not require me passively looking at something for the sake of analyzing it, which is what I do in real life. I wanted to share my passion for things that don’t make the bread, but often melt my buttery heart. But, in this month, my heart too, has been pumping ir-reguliere, for I have to have a post up, come rain or shine. Come fatigue or common colds. Come, for example, today when I’m still down and have massive socializing to do in the evening, when I’d rather be under a blanket, watching a romantic comedy. It’s sad but acceptable for work to feel like work, but for fun to feel like work, is usually not cool. I wonder whether that applies to blogging though.
At least here. This month has been crazy for Of Opinions, with people coming along, sometimes leaving lovely comments, giving the general feeling that this blog needs to get up and take itself more seriously. Things are getting serious. Now that the general tone of this blog has been established, though it took a while, I feel like a fashion stylist on the look out for the perfect clothes for someone else. Before, it was simply shopping and buying clothes for myself. I’ve always worked for others, where I haven’t been involved from start to finish or had control over every decision. Thus, work and me were separate entities. And now, this blog seems like, though it stands on its own as well, to be a part of me. I’ve recently explored how much this blog has come to be me. I suppose, in essence, it is me, though there is a lot that isn’t there. I’ve tried conventional life blogs before, and boy are they embarrassing if you only have whiny stories to tell about yourself. I, at least, like this person here.
One of the reasons I chose the name Of Opinions was that it was dissociative from me. That is why I maintain my username as that as well. My gravatar too, a picture I took, is about as far from a human being as you can get. I did this because I wanted opinions about human life to not be personalized. Even though this blog is neither a job nor a hobby (because I take it too passionately), I still want it to be useful. A few years ago, I watched a documentary on manic depression by Stephen Fry. It was very refreshing because, all help out there, whether psychological or spiritual, always gave answers to life in a finalizing tone. This, on the other hand, asked questions. And I reached the realization that all great thinkers, despite often speaking in declarative sentences, were really concerned with asking questions. The moment you believe in something, you become complacent. Worse, you set yourself for the pain of being proved wrong, which you inevitably will, if you think you are right.
Our lives maybe a a mixture of love and fear, two immiscible liquids trapped in a vessel that cannot escape, but curiosity is our greatest weapon to fight it. In real life, I have little option but to obey forces that are greater than me, though I hope that will change soon, and I will get occupational agency. But here, with these opinions that I try to churn out as often as I can, I can create opportunity for myself to think about things, ask questions, try to make sense of life around me.
Is that work? Well, it feels like it since I’ve done it under compulsion on most days this month. But, look, I did get a lot of thinking done. I got some lovely feedback on these thoughts. I made time to think everyday, the kind of thinking that makes me feel good about myself and the world. Instead of the kind of thinking I usually do, that makes me feel like my head will explode. I’m a little worried about what happens after NaBloPoMo is over, when I might recede to my old, lazy habits and become infrequent in posting. I don’t mind blogging feeling like work, as long as it stays true to its intentions.
Does blogging feel like work to you?