There are times in my life when I can only see around me people whose lives are more important than mine, who know more than me, who’ve accomplished more. People who have achieved in a material and visible way and who own things like houses, cars and beautiful clothes and jewels. Or who have notable careers. I’m convinced they have nice underwear and are not all emotional and often confused. People like Einstein. Well, maybe not Einstein, who is of course dead and might not have had such nice underwear.
At times like this I feel sure I’m a frivolous, mindless woman who is throwing her life away, protesting violently and uselessly against the vagaries of life and the relentless passage of time. While the world and life marches by, uncaring. That’s pretty much how I felt more than a year ago when this invisible thing was really freaking me out.
So I started my blog. I fantasized it being orderly and neat, well planned and well thought-out. Blog perfect. I guess I thought I wanted to be an emotional fluency blog guru of some sort. Interviewed by Oprah, adulated by millions. I wanted to be visible. I felt my life slithering away from me. I knew nobody, was isolated, trying to recover from a crisis I should surely have recovered from ages ago. Dependent on my mother for heaven’s sake.
I clung to the dream that my blog would turn out to be so brilliant that the world would come to my door. Alas, it turned out to be something much more humble than my early wild imaginings. Possibly more human. Nowhere close to perfect. I was still trying to figure things out for myself, trying on this emotional fluency thing for size – did it really work? Was all the therapy I’d done going anywhere? Would I ever finish a film script or a novel? In short my blog was the emotional outpouring of a woman looking at the bottom of the pit. Scary stuff.
Now, more than a year later, I see I wouldn’t make a good blog guru. I’m not perfect enough. Plus, as the meaning of my life and the way that I want to live it has got clearer, I’ve become less sure that these things are the same for everybody. I didn’t expect to see that what’s right for me may not be right for somebody else.
We all have a lot in common but beyond the commonalities is the enormous and limitless universe of each person’s individuality. A person’s destiny, how their life pans out, has never been done before, it’s utterly unique to them. So how can I presume that what works for me will work for somebody else? You can see how this might put a spanner in the blog guru works. Where once I believed I could tell the world about the right and the wrong way to live to recover from crisis, now I see I can only tell my story and let people take what they want from it.
I guess I thought that if I knew what was right for everybody my chances of becoming more visible were higher. Everybody loves an authority. Don’t they? Maybe not. I haven’t become perfect in anything. I don’t know all the answers for myself let alone for anybody else. I’m much clearer about what I need, and that I need to go looking for it, but that’s about it. Somehow, though, I’ve become more visible anyway, despite that my blog wasn’t perfect then and I’m not perfect now. Now how did that happen?