Me Made May 2014
Okay, let’s get this out of the way…
Are you sick of this yet? I sure am! And it’s only May 7th.
So when did Me Made May become Me Made Meh? And why?
I knew something was up when I was aware of just not wanting to write this post. This is not about the MMM challenge itself. In fact I already wear something me-made every day. So, I’ve got the clothes. David, my ever-enthusiastic photographer took some flattering pictures. From a blogging perspective this baby was well on its way to writing itself. Plus, I had already stated in a previous post (put it in writing) that I would document my progress.
As I reread this paragraph the clues are all there. First, I already wear me-made clothes every day. So the “challenge” really wasn’t a challenge. As such the emphasis shifted from doing the challenge to writing about the challenge. This reminds me of a comment my daughter made when she was blogging her way through a year in France. At some point she observed that she was living to blog instead of living to live. In my very first week of blogging I can hardly make this claim but I can see how quickly that can happen.
Regarding the photos, I’m happy and proud to model my clothes or anything else, especially if I’m trying to make a point. But I do not aspire to model per se. Endless mugging for the camera doesn’t bring much to my party no matter how complimentary the response from (very kind) readers. Truth be told taking the daily MMM photo became a chore. Hardly the kind of energy I want to feel or convey.
And what about the blog “writing itself”? Since when did that become a goal of mine? Well it didn’t. In fact, what I’m enjoying most about blogging so far is the creative process itself. I’ve been surprised by how engaging and ultimately thrilling it feels to find the mix of words and photographs to convey something to the reader. The blog that “writes itself” can’t possibly be the best representation of my authentic voice.
OK, so even with all of this,
How Do I Feel About Changing My Mind?
The short answer is “just fine”. But it wasn’t always this way. And getting fine with it has everything to do with learning to take my cues from what I know about myself rather than what I’m afraid others may be thinking or saying about me. In fact, no matter how much I’ve grown around this issue, I still experience a vague sense of letting someone down every time I do a 180. In case you are wondering whether I am an unreliable flake the answer is “god no”. I think folks in my inner circle would back me up on this.
Change is happening all the time, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. What is more freeing than knowing we can change our minds? And what is more stifling than slavishly hanging on to ideas or behaviors that no longer fit? Even in this not very important situation I knew that the only thing fitting me here was my me-made clothes.