Saplantı (n.: obsession, fixation, complex, hobgoblin)

Yesterday I started doing research about starting up a blog for yoga (well, more like a website than a blog, really but blogs is free!).  It’s part of my plan to give teaching yoga a real chance by putting forth the effort that I know is required.  I’m a bit anxious about the whole idea of going all in on this teaching thing.  I know I should be only excited (ironically the word is the same for excited and anxious in Turkish), but what if I put forth all this effort and put myself out there and still don’t succeed?

And then I started thinking about this blog… and getting a bit anxious about it.  How will I measure my success for this one?  What if it isn’t successful?

Oh, Man… Does it suck?  Does it lack wit and intellect (the irony wouldn’t be lost on me)?  Is the idea to work around Turkish vocabulary silly?  Or limiting?  Am I ridiculous for doing this?

The answer to all these questions is no.  Well, maybe not to the wit/intellect question, but definitely the others.  No it doesn’t suck.  No it isn’t silly.  No it isn’t ridiculous.

I’m new to this whole blogging thing.  And opening up to the interwebs.  Or even people I know, let alone a whole world of people that could be reading anything I write that I don’t know at all. (Hi, by the way.  Nice for you to meet me and me to know absolutely nothing about you.)  What I need to do is remember why I started blogging: mostly just to keep family and friends informed of our goings on and new digs.  And then also, if I’m honest, a bit out of boredom and to occupy my massive amounts of free time.  And then if I’m brutally honest, for a little bit of affirmation that I’m still interesting and have something to say that people want to hear.  And you see, that is where it went wrong…

Confused, aren’t you?

See, I have this tendency that I like to think of as throwing myself wholeheartedly into things that I find interesting (see multiple posts re: blog planner).  In truth, this throwing of myself is probably more accurately defined as getting competitive to a point of possibly obsessive at excelling at whatever project I find interesting.

Once upon a time I was able to channel this ridiculous energy (obsessive nature) into useful things.  Doing well in school (when I was interested), excelling at my career (which was basically, at it’s core, being a know-it-all-smarty-pants), getting my yoga teaching certification (for those of you saw me while I was doing this or were in the metaphorical trenches with me — you know finishing it in record time was nothing but obsessive and competitive in a twisted anti-yogi way).  All these were (relatively) good results from throwing myself into projects. You see the problem is that lately I’ve been throwing myself into this whole blogging thing.  (Yes, I still prefer to use that wording.)  Not this blog itself, mind you, just with blogging in general.

Religiously checking Freshly Pressed is my new favorite hobby.  I’ve been obsessively reading other blogs — I even read the comments.  Even if I don’t intend to comment myself.  And when I do — oh, the pressure! Having given myself the moniker Witty and Intelligent Lady, I must be both witty and intelligent, AND thoughtful and/or insightful.  And don’t get me started on my new toy, Twitter.  Half the time I feel like I’m a nut talking to myself via 140 characters… the other half of the time I can’t figure out why I even signed up for it (except that I love that little bird logo)!

So today I call a truce with this newest obsession.  I will continue to blog and indulge the need to keep up with the blogs I love (and read tweets because, sometimes, it feels like Oprah is tweeting directly to me!), but I will not let it make me feel like a blabbering idiot (and will try not to be one),a  terrible writer, or failure when my stats are under 50 hits per week.

After all, that wasn’t the point when I started this blog.  The point was to have somewhere to ramble in the hopes that my experiences are entertaining or helpful for others.  And to keep the family off my back for not calling more and sending more pictures.  (Hi, Mom.  Sorry for not calling… I’ll send pictures soon.)

What about you?  What is your current obsession?

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