Why I Stopped Blogging

When I 'remembered' my blog a couple months ago, I was a bit puzzled as to why I ever stopped. Did I stop thinking critically about life? Did insecurity sweep away my confidence to share what I wanted to? Did work demands steal my consciousness so much that I couldn't focus on peripheral, analytical thinking? While the answer may possibly be "yes, a little" to each of these, I have to say that none of these reasons hold up as the sole proponent of my blogging cessation.

Do you know what it was? I just figured it out: I got an iPhone in 2011. Literally the week after I wrote my last post that year. 

Before the iPhone, I had to go to my computer to do anything online. That also meant time spent away from the computer was truly time spent away. In between rehearsals, while waiting for this or that thing, my thoughts were left to manifest, for me to chew on what plagued, intrigued, or pressed at me. But since the iPhone, I find myself constantly connected to this superficial world, my mind interrupted by mundane status updates and emails - almost constantly.

This scares me, yet I know it to be true.

I still have the iPhone...and I have grown to hate it. And depend on it. I hate how emails are constantly tugging at me. I get stressful emails that remind me of the weight of responsibility basically every hour. Facebook is an addiction that is so superfluous, yet so regular, that I find it hard to break away. 

That is not the life I want. That is not the mind I want.

And while it doesn't really matter whether I blog or not, it does matter what I do with my mind...and my life. I have a strong conviction to be a consistent learner, observer, and thinker. Blogging, for me, was an outward sign that those things were happening internally. I don't want to be a radical who says that I can't do anything that distracts, or anything that doesn't have profound meaning. I want to learn the art of moderation in most things, as that is where I believe there is freedom. But in this case, I find it hard to resist the temptation to engage in meaningless, or moment-stealing, mind-disracting behaviors that come from the use of this piece of technology.

Today I don't have any other conclusions to draw other than what I've said. I'm still figuring it out. 

Overextended

o·ver·ex·tend

ˌōvər.ikˈstend

verb

1. 1. impose on (someone) an excessive burden of work or commitments.
       "She should not overextend herself with work as much as she does"

Or, another way to put it: When you crave time off in the worst way because you're so busy, but when it comes, you can't enjoy it because there's simply too much to do. 

I remind myself all of the time that this is just a season. It's a crazy ride - this whole "doing school and work at the same time" thing. Yet, I always seem to choose paths that are not typical. I didn't just study music in high school, I embraced absolutely every opportunity I could, making myself insanely saturated and busy. I moved 2k miles away from home for school, even though I was pegged as a homebody. I way over-did it as an undergrad, sometimes causing my friends to remind me how selfish it caused me to be. I married 5 days after college graduation. That was pretty stressful. My husband and I went through graduate school at the same time. Most people advise against something like that, though we survived just fine. I gave birth then began teaching college classes 5 weeks later. I began work on a DMA in spite of having a young child and a full-time job. If I let myself be honest, then I have to say I enjoy these challenges. I feel pushed to my limits, farther beyond what even I think I can do. Then, when I achieve my goals, the taste of those achievements is sweeter than anything. Well, sweeter than most things.

In spite of this, I hope that, after this DMA season is over, I learn to slow down, to enjoy life at a predictable and reasonable pace. I think my husband, daughter, and body will thank me.

For now, I navigate the crazy schedules, performance and work demands, and eye twitches one day at a time.