The truth is…I like blogging. I like writing. I like creativity. I like words. I like complaining about how I have not written anything in a while because I’m busy complaining about how busy I am not writing.
Words like Perfunctory pop into my head in the middle of the day for no particular reason.
I just had to google the word perfunctory because I know it means thoughtless but I know that is not 100% correct either. As defined by Yahoo Dictionary it means “carried out without minimum effort or reflection.”
Why would the word perfunctory pop into my head? Everything I DO requires foresight, scowling thought and mind-numbing amounts over-thinking.
I am the the complete opposite of perfunctory, which is careful and diligent according to dictionary.com. I’m thoughtful, but I’m not always careful. I’m a task “maker”, but I am not always diligent about my tasks.
The truth is, I stopped blogging, because it is has become a gruesome marketing charade, in which the shockingly loud and angry take precedence over anyone who has a soft bone in their body. I stopped because it WAS NOT perfunctory for me and I thought that’s what it needed as protection.
The truth is, internet trolls viciously prey on blogger’s vulnerabilities so they either stop writing OR become angry and pin the left against the right. I am not speaking solely about politics either. There is a left and a right in nutrition, fitness, parenting, and simply existing as a human. We live in a society where you must choose a side, dammit and we must label you, so we can tear you down for being you.
There is simply no middle ground to be found. The internet has made everyone’s lives 100% accessible and scrutinized twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
I’m not innocent of this either. Was my workout successful and I need YOU to know I’m trying to hard to fight the gravity of my cementing; yet strangely saggy and soft skin? You need to know that and you need to cheer me on, or get the hell out. hater.
AND 64.35% of this is me making an a giant excuse for my laziness when it comes to picking up the pen or turning on the “word-press” machine because I’m anything but perfunctory about writing or blogging.
The truth is, I do care what people “think.” I do care about people. I wish I gave “less Effs” about people and their nefarious opinions but that is not how I am wired.
I care about trolls. I care about the angry people who are so angry about life, I do not even know why they are so angry, but I care.
I care because I know what it’s like to be so angry and everyone annoys you so much you just have to criticize and compare and troll and link apocalyptic blogs to your page in hopes that it might change the ENTIRE world.
I read a blog once about a body builder troll, who would go on to body builder websites and blogs and just mother effing troll the gosh darn heck out of it. He was super mean and said horrible things. You know what those body builders did? Instead of “hatin'” back at this troll, they ENCOURAGED him to show himself and get healthy. He did. He ended up losing a bunch of weight and realizing that he could change his life around. He ended up bonding with the body builders and they in return cheered him on in his journey.
I GET that. I have worked daily and continue to work on not letting anger and resentment get the best of me. It’s easier to turn outward and lash out at the internet bloggers and social media-“experters.” It’s easier to poke holes in their giant balloons of truthiness; positivism or expertise; then look inward at our own pain.
We all have an inner troll. We all compare. We all judge. It’s human nature. I’m sure the cavemen and women tried to keep up their cave painting decor to match the Jones’ too.
The truth is we are all trying to find our own way. We all get in our own way. We all show what we want the world to see. Vulnerability is scary. The media make the vulnerable look horrific. A celebrity loses it under the pressure of EVERYONE watching their every move and we POUNCE, because their insecurity and flaws make our masks more bedazzled and shimmery.
I’m not innocent in this either. I rolled my eyes violently at Giselle during the Superbowl and my husband asked me why I was scowling. My response “She doesn’t let her kids eat sugar. And look at her all natural and looking good and stuff.” Because that answer makes sense????
The truth is, I’m forty something years old and I’m currently working on feeling JOY, without feeling like I’m breaking the law. I’m working on letting go of this need to validate my existence through other people’s eyes. I’m working on wearing an authentic mask, a less judgmental (and yes less sarcastic too )mask and being just a tad bit more perfunctory with the basics.
I encourage you to chase the joy. I encourage you to be just a wee bit more perfunctory with those things that gnaw at your joy. For me, I could be a bit more perfunctory about bathroom cleanliness. Or wondering what everyone else is thinking all. the. time.
The truth is, we will never really know what the truth IS on the internet or in someone’s blog or book or vlog or whatever is is your reviewing. The truth lies within us and it lies within our uninhibited vulnerable joy.
This blog is like the ridiculous sweater I bought at Anthropologie a few years ago. It was on sale and the sales lady told me "it looks awesome on you." It's the most bizarre sweater, and whether it looked good on me or not, is highly debatable. Like these blogs, I look at them at say "Yeesh, what was I thinking,," or laugh or bath in their cathartic qualities. The sweater stays for the same reasons.