Blogging is Like Fight Club, and Other Myths

One of the rules out there in the blogging community is that you never blog about blogging. Perhaps for some that makes sense, but there are a lot of us who are finding our way by feel, bumping into things and then moving in the other direction. Bump, move. Bump, move. Because I have been pretty much winging it for two years, I enrolled in the online ecourse, Blogging Your Way Boot Camp, to find out just how bad my mistakes have been.

One of the very first lessons was about finding your focus. Oh boy. I could feel my stomach tightening into a knot and the petulant side of me screaming “No! No! No! — I will not limit myself!”, feet stomping. Whoa! Let’s back up …

When I first started blogging, three things were going on.

1. My nonbloggable world was all-consuming, exhausting, and soul-crushing. (Have you seen Oprah’s interview with Jason Russell, the guy who made the Kony 2012 video and had a breakdown? That could have been me then.)

2. Several years before, the Mr. and I had decided once and for all not to have kids, which brought me the biggest sense of relief — like the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders. All this time, space, and resources opened up to fill and use as I wished. Somehow I had filled it with things I didn’t want. (See #1 as an example.)

3. My friend — who died six months later after a heartbreaking battle with ovarian cancer —had been writing the most honest, emotional, raw, and damn funny blog. She was making her mark in this world as she left it. I felt compelled to say something. Anything.

Juniper Disco then became my creative outlet — a corner of the world to share my effort to reclaim my space, find my voice, and share my pursuit of satisfying my curiosity about pretty much everything.

So I guess you could say my blog has no focus. I’ve blogged about: my fear of flying, Jamaica, every meal I’ve ever photographed before devouring, my Mother List, polar bear plunges, grape stomping, drag queens, dead birds, my deep love for Provincetown, cocktail bitters, paper dolls, film festivals, olive oil, grief.

Maybe I have been doing it wrong. But this space is mine. And sharing all of the important choices I make every day in filling that space and that time that I feel so privileged to have is its purpose. With no limits. And no focus.