It's hilarious because although I know it doesn't make much sense, I find facebook to be much more intrusive than blogging. I understand the logic of being absolutely aware of who is reading what we put out there when it comes to facebook, but on the other hand I have friends on there who would be insulted if I unfriended them, but whom I don't want reading my deepest thinkings on birth, parenting, and working as a paramedic with a bunch of semi emotionally stunted individuals wrapped up in the warped social equivalent of high school meets oil field....
It's certainly possible for anyone I work with, for, or around to stumble across my blog accidentally. This happened recently, with a mom from my kids' school (Hi Maria!). But to have invited them in or accepted their friendship and then spill my guts? Not so much. I'm much more guarded on facebook than I am in this space.
I also find it interesting when my friends (the ones I know only in real life, who don't read my blog) express gratitude that I don't 'push' them to read my blog. I've gotten this on many occasions, where they say thanks for not getting insulted that they don't read it. What do I care if they read it or not?! I'm not trying to be intelligent or particularly funny. I'm just talking. If it's important, we'll talk about it in real life!
I also have been accused by several OTHER people of attempting to communicate solely via blog. This makes absolutely no sense to me, since I don't actually push anyone to read my blog, ever. Hence, if they miss out on what I'm slathering all over the internet I don't assume they read it, and I fill them in when we're together. I think this accusation has its roots in the fact that I'm horrific at keeping in touch by phone. Like, awful. Embarrassingly so. So, for those who communicate more frequently by phone, I'm this elusive enigma. I've got time to blog, but no time to talk on the phone. Yes, I know. Anyways, that's where I think this perception that I try to communicate by blog comes from. I'm not trying to maintain relationships on here, I'm just doing some cyber stripping.
Blogging has helped me to meet new friends, which is cool. It also damaged an old university friendship of mine, which is not cool. At all. THAT girl won't befriend me on facebook, that's for sure. The internet is weird. I think that really just sums it up. We're designed to communicate face to face, with all the verbal and non verbal communicating tools all mixed up together. But how can we do face to face, solely? People we love live so far away! The exchange of ideas and thoughts and art and emotion is so valuable! Anyways.
I also have to confess a weakness of mine. I really hate to feel left out. HATE. Little else will push my buttons and stimulate my anxiod self faster than feeling left out of something, or cast aside in a relationship. It reaches way down into a foundational crack in my heart, which came into existence pretty early in my life, and shakes it up a bit. The older I get and the more I establish my family and discover who I am, the less I am affected by this weakness. There are now far fewer people in my life who can touch this deep when it comes to being left out, but they still exist. I wonder why. I wonder why I fear this so much, this cast aside-ness. No one wants to feel they are less important to someone than they wish to be.
Another fun step on the road of self discovery. *FUN!* Don't we all really want to be loved? I don't only like to be loved, I want to be FAVORITE. Which is part of why being a mom really works for me! Moms are so important. Moms are always favorite, even when they are vile nerds (and I don't mean favorite over dad; I mean favorite over the rest of the world), and we always love them and revolve around them, and need them, and wish for their approval, always.
So. I have a drive to be imperative.
I need to care far less. I just....can't....
I'm also wrestling with What's Next as far as my vocational direction is concerned. I'm done with BC Ambulance. But I am still wistful when an ambulance drives past me, sirens wailing, off to wrestle with the world's pain in all its manifestations and dysfunctionality. I am hoping to somehow turn crochet and knitting into a small, modest type of income for myself. Doula work inspires me only really when I do it for my friends, for whom I do it for free or nearly free, and it makes other income earning work difficult to logistically organize. Like, if I do childcare a few days a week in my house, I can't do doula work those days. You can't conscript birth onto certain days per week, so you know, that won't work.
There's midwifery school.
And there's art.
In a perfect world, I would simply be an artist. I'd paint, I'd go to shows and see other peoples' art, I'd read art mags and maybe write some articles for them, and I'd be doing installations and murals and small paintings and large ones, and pushing philosophy around on canvas with acrylic and oils. What if a perfect world really happened?
I think that really might be the scariest concept out there. [except maybe for feeling left out. ha! i made a joke at my own expense....]
Can i leave medicine behind altogether? I don't know. But I can't develop as an artist 'on the side' in the same way that I can as 'vocation.' And I'm still passionate about birth. Gahhh....
This is the first time I've voiced this particular self struggle. Out loud or in writing. Because who wants to look at my art? And if nobody's looking, is there a point? And what? I'm going to take us to the poorhouse because I wanna be an artist?
I'm reading a book right now called The Help. It is REALLY GOOD. I'm going to stop writing about all these really big topics that are very close to my heart and go read, because its easier.