Blogging is bizarre.
When people say things like, “Oh, you’re so brave to put yourself out there,” which they often do, it is so decidedly not my experience. Finding a rare moment to myself to sit and type into the WordPress box doesn’t feel the least bit brave. It is, in fact, an over-scheduled introvert’s wet dream. I know that what I write will be out there once I hit “Publish,” but the act of writing–at least while I’m doing it–is mine. It’s just for me.
I am in no way abdicating responsibility for what I write. When you put stuff on the internet, like I do, you have to be prepared to take responsibility for it. I have to be prepared for fallout, and I get some. 99% of the comments made on my site are pretty loving. They’re mostly left by people who know me personally, or who feel like they do cuz they’ve followed my blog for a while.
Sometimes people don’t agree with me. Duh. I’m okay with that. Fair’s fair. If I put it out there, I have to expect people to have their own opinion: to disagree, to concur, to be under-impressed, over-impressed, pissed, bored, you name it.
Dissenting comments, I publish. Every now and then–pretty rarely, actually–someone gets nasty. I consider myself lucky that it’s the anomaly, not the norm. Usually, the nasty stuff is left by someone writing under an obvious pseudonym. The first time it happened, the venom knocked the breath right out of me. I was all boo-hoo-hoo hurt, astonished, and indignant. I mean, why would someone who doesn’t even know me–sniffle–want to be so mean?!?!
After 24 hours of feeling victimized and misunderstood I decided that, since sensitive people have no business writing on the intarnets, I had better hurry up and develop a tougher skin. Now, mostly, I try to let stuff like that roll off my back, usually pretty successfully.
Anyway, a few zingers here and there are probably good for me. They keep me honest, and from believing my own hype.
(Oh, for the record: I feel zero obligation to post the nasty stuff on a site for which I personally foot the bill. No apologies there. Go ‘head and get your own site, though, and good luck to you.)
On Wednesday, I published a post with my thoughts on the the value that I place on advanced asana (bendy, stretchy stuff done on a yoga mat). Yesterday, it was featured on Yogadork. I like Yogadork. I have felt very fairly treated by the site.
Reading the comments is interesting to the point of surreal for me.
It’s fascinating–to me–to see commenters interpret my post. Some claim that my post is my way of distancing myself from my former professional affiliation. Okay. I have already done that in the most overt way I could think of, but okay.
Some people took exception to the gallery of asana photographs on my website. I get why they might. I want to reiterate that I don’t have a problem with advanced asana. I find the pursuit of advanced asana interesting to the degree that I do.
One commenter felt that the photo on my website of me in Hanumanasana made my post hypocritical. I get why someone might feel that way. I don’t agree but I get it. To the point, I am certainly bendier than the average human. For my body, Hanumanasana is not an advanced asana. I could do it long before I began an earnest asana practice. That doesn’t make me virtuous or accomplished. It just makes me long muscled on the backs of my legs.
There are plenty of other poses that don’t come naturally to me, and I am only so interested in logging the hours that would be required in order to “stick” them. That was really the point I was trying to make.
I have zero problem with this:
In fact, I think it’s exquisite. I admire the discipline it requires. I dig it. It is one beautiful expression of a sadhana. It’s just not my expression.
I’m not calling for people to disavow advanced asana. I’m calling for people to invest in what’s truly valuable to them–whether that includes advanced asana, or not.
Anyway, I’m not complaining about the Yogadork comments. I’m not outraged.
I’m interested, I guess.
The internets are very, very interesting.