I’ve been doing other things lately – staying away from writing, and from posting on social media as much as I used to. A couple of people have expressed curiosity about that – and here’s what I tell them:
There are a few reasons. I’ve been pondering each of them this morning, coffee in hand, wondering how best to fill the unexpected gap created by two cancellations – courtesy of this year’s remarkably efficient flu virus.
The first and biggest reason is that I’ve become completely addicted to photography. I took it up during lockdown, and I haven’t stopped. It’s the most nourishing hobby. Through the lens of a camera, I find beauty in everything. Everything. And while it always came naturally to notice the good, being able to capture it helps hold it, if that makes sense. To be immersed in nature, it’s colours and sounds, is a welcome escape from the bombardment of inauthenticity that comes at us via technology. Somehow, with a camera in hand, the beauty expands and makes itself known, and takes up the space it deserves.
We could all do with looking up and around more. Away from those bloody phones …
Like a lot of things, photography is far harder than I ever anticipated. And the more I learn, the more I realise how much there still is to learn. Such an analogy for therapy, for life. I’m constantly challenged, constantly learning – which suits me and it’s fun (except for when it goes horribly wrong!) – but it does leave time for little else. Writing just sort of slipped quietly into the background. I imagine it as a little person in the back of my brain, still happily scribbling notes, just not passing them forward as often…
A second, darker reason is that I – like many outspoken or simply congruent colleagues – have fallen foul of online bullies. That’s been a real turn-off, a gagging of sorts. Not an uncommon experience among fellow amateur bloggers, I do realise. The demise of boundaries and social etiquette online is staggering, and again, the inauthenticity of it all… But sitting here now, as I write this, I am smiling as I recognise it feels much smaller than it once did. I’m far more inclined to roll my eyes than feel fear or anxiety. So, perhaps we’ll park that one for now – at least until I next say something heretical.
So yeah… we’ll see how that works out..
The third reason is procrastination. (Yes, sadly, therapists procrastinate too!) I’m still barraged with ideas daily – hourly, sometimes. Things that move me. Things I’d like to read about, write about, to share, to teach, to learn, to explore. Every single day something excites me or catches my attention, and I think, I could write about that. But somehow, I just don’t make the time. (I nearly said I just don’t have the time, but it’s a choice of course… see? I can therapy myself! 😉 )
The laptop calls to me, but not always for writing. There’s the latest batch of photos from that sunset, or that moonrise, or that walk… or oh my god — that aurora display.
When I was writing for online publications and other people’s websites, I had deadlines. Every week I churned out an article with ease. I’ve been asked how did I do that? But the answer is simple – it was my main hobby at the time. It was flow, not work.
I gave those outlets up one by one as I became increasingly disillusioned with how my work was being presented. One website insisted on calling me an “expert” – a particular pet peeve of mine. Others (several, in fact) allowed authors to copy and paste from elsewhere and claim it as their own. Increasingly, my pieces shared pages with articles or adverts about which I had ethical concerns. Again, the inauthenticity… It all began to feel uncomfortable and rather depressing.
I resisted for a while. I persisted with publications I still loved. And then, when one of them shut down, I made the right call: I stopped.
So this is nice. Hearing the clickety-clack of the keyboard again. Feeling a different part of my brain switch on… whirr whirr, buzz buzzzz. Like meeting an old friend #sipscoffee
Sometimes I see things that enrage more than excite me, and I deliberately don’t write until I’ve calmed down. I have to watch my language… it’s been mentioned… and I’m conscious of over sharing, of my own boundaries and holding that line. This morning, I feel calmer. And I’m ready to write about something that regularly irritates and concerns me. It’s become more frequent of late. I’ve been sitting with it, talking about it with some well chosen people, with trying to figure out if I’m less tolerant or if it’s happening more. Perhaps it’s both.
Unfortunately, this current frequent source of irritation, and concern, is my own profession, and (some of) my own colleagues.
And those who masquerade as colleagues.
So, it seems I’m back to my blog, and that will be my next post. I do hope you read it if you are considering therapy. It’s not written to scare you, even though it can be scary. Nope, I wrote it to inform, and hopefully, to help.
Here’s a wee preview: