A friend told me recently that she rarely reads my blog posts. Now, I certainly don’t expect every person I know to be interested or intense about the same subjects I am. Truthfully, three years ago I would have felt the same way this other person feels — she explained that my posts were, to her, full of trite sayings; furthermore, she felt quite strongly that she noticed most the annoying familiarity of the concepts about which I write. She didn’t say that last, but she said several other things that add up to that idea.
I thought about this for a few days before I decided to write it out. I came to some interesting conclusions about myself and my writing, about the quotes and statements on which I base that writing, for that is where my friend tires of reading the same old thing, over and over. My reaction — I understand completely. What is important are the ways I am not reacting to the simple fact that I have a friend who doesn’t want to read what I write.
I am not hurt. I do not feel betrayed, or abandoned because someone doesn’t read my stuff. This should be expected, but I know, in the past, I would have felt those things and more. Remember, of course, that the world revolved around me, and everything anyone ever did was being done to me. I am not angry or hurt, or even frustrated by any reactions to my writing, and I am most definitely not changing the words I post or the ideas on which they are based. I remember when I would have done that — any disinterest on someone else’s part would throw me into a panic of readjustment, which only ever prompted me to move away from my choice of material.
I am not sad, or bewildered by my friend’s rejection of my writing, because I realize that she isn’t rejecting my writing at all. She is making the same kind of choice each of us makes innumerable times each day — I will let this influence me, but not that; I will choose my mental stimuli according to my own desires. She feels no obligation to run those choices by me or anyone else., in the same way I feel no obligation to seek approval of the subject matter of my blog. How did I live so long without understanding that simple truth?
I spent a lot of my life seeking approval, and just as much time seeking ways to refute approval. These pursuits felt necessary to me, although I have since learned that they are not at all important or significant. My thanks for this new understanding goes, in part, to my sister S. and the members of my circle of family and friends; I owe that thanks, as well, to the trite but true affirmations and agreements of Abraham-Hicks and Don Miguel Ruiz. There, I find what I need to support my life of contentment and good will. Whether others do does not affect me at all, and I can finally believe that with all my heart. My path is my own, through the same process of search-and-find, try-and-reject which is imperative for anyone to live a happy life. Trite, yes — in this age of self-help books, gurus, classes, and attitudes, the basic tenets of a life of contentment and satisfaction may well sound trite. For me, that does nothing to lessen the impact of their truth.