This Blog Is Ten Years Old

This blog is 10 years old this month. 

Who knew??

I didn’t even realize it until yesterday.

I was reading through the archives of a blog I just discovered. The author’s archives went back to 2012. 

It made me wonder how far mine went back, so I checked.  

And lo and behold, February of 2009 was my debut here. And I have amassed close to 700 posts. 

When I first started, the idea here was that I would be on the lookout for things that inspired me, and then write about them. Thus the title, Inspiration Location. 

That didn’t last long, though. After a while I just found myself writing about whatever I was obsessing about at the moment, inspiring or not. 

Now the idea is to chronicle my thoughts as I tend my streaks and develop my projects. 

Back in 2016 I self-published a little book called The Project-Driven Life. It’s basically tips and tricks for finding out who you want to be when you grow up. It involves tending streaks and completing projects. 

 My next project is a book called The Yoga of Everything and I have  started maintaining some streaks that will help get it finished: writing 1K words daily, reading, meditating, and blogging here once a week.

But, back to that new-found blog. 

Whenever I find a new blog, the first place I go is to the About page.

I want to know: Who is this person? Where do they live? How old are they? What do they do besides blog? Do I have anything in common with them?

I want to see their picture. I want to know a little of their backstory.

I don’t have an About page currently. I changed WordPress themes recently and forgot to include one. 

Maybe that’s a lie. 

Maybe I didn’t forget. 

Maybe it’s just that I hate writing About pages. They never seems to fit me and they keep going out of date as my life morphs and changes.

For example, if I say I’m a 66 year-old yoga teacher living in northern Pennsylvania, is that an accurate description? It’s true, of course, but is it my true deal? 

I don’t think so. 

What if I say: I’ve been writing every day in personal journals for over 40 years?

 Now, that might be getting closer.

I think it’s because if you’re the kind of person who writes down your thoughts every day, and keeps doing it obsessively for decades, you’re defined by that activity.

We are what we repeatedly do. ~Aristotle

 And you also find out that you’re that weirdo that needs to write down your thoughts every day. 

But seriously, a journal is a place you go to describe yourself, analyze yourself, contemplate yourself. 

In words. 

And then, if you do a strenuous amount of editing, take out all the gibberish, remove the nonsense, and give your words a beat to dance to, voila, you have yourself a post. 

Which is basically what I do here.

And have been doing for 10 years, apparently. 

If you’ve been following along here, for however long. Thank you. It makes me really happy to have readers.  So onward!

Persistently. With reverence. For a long time. ~Patanjali

Writing Is Like Cleaning The Toilet

I’m having resistance posting on this blog.

So let me remind myself why I set this as a year-end goal in the first place. What was my why for this one? Frankly, I don’t remember. But my 3 main reasons for starting any project are:

1. To see if I can endure or persist over time.

2. To gain some new knowledge or skill.

3. To reduce an irritant.

Which box does blogging regularly check?

Probably persistence, but that’s not the real why.

I think it has more to do with my fear of being judged unkindly.

I need to find a way of defanging this self-limiting belief. I need to tell myself another story, one that will have me approaching the writing of the blog with interest and enthusiasm. Now I approach it like cleaning the toilet. It has to be done, but I don’t want to do it.

I think I am delusional. What I mean by that is I think I can achieve things without doing work.

I am work averse. I believe in magic. Magically, this will happen and I won’t have to suffer. Work makes me question the worth of everything.

“You are defined by what you are willing to struggle for.”

This is a tenet of stoicism. I believe it. It explains a lot of my lack of self-definition. Who am I? What am I willing to struggle for?

I honestly don’t know.

As a young woman, my motivating struggle was freedom and autonomy. I needed to get free of my suffocating family. But once that happened, I still wasn’t free. I was free of them, as people, but I still bore the wounds of bad or non-existent parenting.

Low self-esteem, being the major wound.

Needing to be seen. Another one.

Needing approval. That, too.

So the blogging meets my need to be seen. And sometimes I get positive feedback and that meets my need for approval. But it’s the crippling low self-esteem that creates the avoidance and the resistance when it comes to posting something. The writing has to have a point. And sometimes, or most of the time, what I write seems pointless. Or no. Not pointless, just irrelevant and boring. It’s not helpful. Except to me.

So I figured a positive motivational ploy would be to tell myself there is value in showing people what it looks like to set goals and struggle to achieve them. That a blog devoted to that would have a point. It might even be helpful.

There might be a few people who would enjoy watching the on-going saga of a how a projects develops, thrives or dies. And that’s what I would show here. Show your work, as Austin Kleon advises.

I wish I could say that this articulated blog mission has cured my resistance, but it hasn’t. So far. Maybe I just need a few more thousand repetitions of the mantra: Show your work, show your work.

Self-limiting beliefs are hard to exorcise.

This is what I am currently working on.

Today This Is How It Rolled

This blog is my platform. Every day I step up on it and I say something.

I sort of “busk” on it. I don’t have a hat, but I do make a bid for your attention. I make an offering. I put something out into the world. Some small thing. Most days less than 1000 words. (A lot less, hopefully.) Just a little word-song played on my keypad. A little expression, lightly edited. Then I hit the “Publish” button.

Then tomorrow,  I will climb back up, take the mic again, say another 4 or 5 hundred words, then step back down. 75 people listen to me every day. Sometimes what I say resonates with them and they drop a “Like” into my hat.

Sometimes one of them will feel moved to say something in response.

Then the question becomes: “Why?” Why do I mount the platform everyday? And: “So what?” What’s the point of this?

If I could figure that out, it would be cool.

Do I blog to register my existence? To fulfill some in-born inclination to express?

Nobody asks the dandelion, “What’s your point?” Nobody asks the bird why it sings. It just does.

Is that why I write? Just because? Just because I feel like it?

Why so hard, then? Why does it feel like such an act of bravery, of trust? What’s all this resistance?

Why can’t I just open with the sun, and fold inward at night like the dandelion? Why can’t it just be what I do? No expectations, no hand-wringing, no nervousness, just a daily moment of expression to say, “Hello fellow humans. Good morning (or good evening). Today my offering is this. Today I am thinking about this. Do you ever think about this?

Is my telling you how it is for me opening a door or a window or a mirror for you?

Does my life look like yours?

Is the way I  look at it like the way you do?

Did you ever think about it this way? Is this way of thinking about it interesting? Or boring? When you read it do you think, “So what?” Or do you think nothing at all? Or do you think, “Huh.”

Is it like seeing a dandelion and registering, “dandelion” and moving on? When you read someone’s blog what do you hope to find?

Somebody like you? But also somebody a little different? My favorite bloggers make me think of things in ways I don’t usually think of them. I think, “Huh, that’s interesting. That’s a way of thinking I would have never thought of.” Is that what I want to give to my audience?

As I approach this platform every day all I want to say is, “Today, this is how it rolled.”


Crazy Puppet Blogger

I need to figure out what this blog is about.

I am writing it everyday, which is now up to, what? some 70 days in a row? But it still hasn’t found its niche or its voice yet.

I feel like a puppeteer. I can give voices to different parts of my personality. I have an earnest self and a snarky self and and a silly self and a funny self.

I get into moods.  Like yesterday. I was screaming at the world from the car. G and I were driving to Lowes and I screamed at Wayne’s house that he should finish the electrical job already!

I screamed at stupid drivers. I screamed at a guy using a hose to sweep dirt off his driveway instead of a broom. “We’re in drought, you asshole!!”

I screamed at the frackers for sucking all the water out of the aquifers so now we’re in a drought. I get into these screamy days.

Then I have my stoic days. Then I have my “It is the way it is” days.

Then I have my “Everything is absurd but funny” days. Then I have my “Everything is absurd and I want to kill myself —and you“ days.

Then I have my “How the hell can I live in this place?” days. Then I have my “Life is good and I love everything and everybody” days.

Then I have my “I am wasting my one wild and precious life” days. Then I have my “I am doing good work in the world” days.

I have my “Healthy food is the key to happiness” days. Then I have my “It’s okay to eat gelato for lunch” days.

And in among all this I decide that  blogging is a good idea, but that this blog has to have some consistency and some predictability, but I am neither all that consistent nor predictable.

I get depressed when I go back and read my archives from 2009 and 2010. I think: You were a MUCH better writer back then, Kath. What happened? Are you losing it? Are you getting boring because your life is so…what?  Comfy?

I wonder if I need things to shake up a little. But then I think: A shaken life isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

So I don’t know.  I don’t really know what my mood is today. I am happy that it is May that’s for sure. Currently the sky is blue and the temperature is 81. That’s what I’m talking about people. That’s what I’m talking about.

There is a nice strip of sun on the deck calling my name. I need to get my shorts on and sit in it for awhile.

And read Resilience.

Wondering Why I Blog

This blog is still such a mystery to me. I wish I knew what I was doing. I wish I knew WHY I write it.

I think one way I try to look at blog content is through the lens of: What can I help you with today? What is a problem you are currently having with your work or with relationships that I can help you with?

(Because Freud was right. There are only 2 universal concerns: love and work.)

Then I have to look at my particular skill set. What do I know about work/vocation/purpose that might help you? If your problem is that you don’t know what kind of work will sustain you fiscally and spiritually, I can suggest the strategy that worked for me.

What do I know about love and relationships that might help you mend or deepen yours? What worked for me was writing my manifesto, listening more than talking, and learning non-violent communication skills.

Now that’s all well and good, but I don’t want to just tell people what they should do. I want to show them what might happen if they tried it out.

But  I don’t want to be an advice blogger, or a “How To” blogger. Nor am I much of a story teller.

I want to figure out where my personal life and the personal life of my reader overlap, and then focus on that place in the Venn diagram.

Here’s an easy example: my yoga students. We all value yoga. We might value it for different reasons, but at the very least we share an interest in this practice.

And a big part of what I think yoga is, and what I try to teach, and what they come to my classes for, is to learn how to fall in love with their own life. However it shows up. The hard, the impossible, the intolerable, the frustrating, and the exasperating.

Life is disappointment and heartache and cancer and loss and grief.

Life is also  success and elation and good health and abundance and joy.

The trick is to learn how to fall in love—or at least in like—with all of it, or at least tolerate, with some amount of grace, the struggle.

Now if I could tell, or better yet, show the people who read my blog how I manage to do that, that might make writing this blog a helpful, and worthy endeavor.

When I am with people, in the flesh, I think I help. I listen more than I talk, for one thing, and I think listening is one of the lost arts.

I think people really need to say their life out loud. Then they need to be heard, and to hear themselves articulate their own thoughts. This cuts a very quick route to clarity and self-knowledge.

The listener is not there to advise or fix, but only to receive and reflect back to the speaker their own words.

Most of the time, even the reflecting back is not necessary. Just being an empty vessel into which another person can pour their soul is to be of service.

If I can be a big enough container to hold my own struggles and joys, and also have enough room left over to hold yours too, well, that is the definition of a big life.

When I am with other people physically I can be that vessel. And I strive to keep my own life clean and struggle-free, so that I have that kind of room.

The problem with writing a blog is that it is an act of  “speaking” rather than listening.

Nature listens, that’s why nature heals and consoles. Nature just receives, it doesn’t advise or even reflect. It simply receives.

Trees and mountains and oceans receive. Flowers receive and rocks receive. We can pour our hearts into them and their sturdiness and their constancy console us. I sit on an outcropping in Yosemite and feel the immensity of what I witness, and that immensity dwarfs my own struggle, and amplifies my own joy.

I can run along the beach and howl my pain into the surf, but the waves just continue to crest and trough, the seagulls  continue to soar and dip.

I think the question I want to answer is:

How can I receive on the blog? How can I translate what I do in person, into blog writing? And is this even possible? Is it possible to write in such a way that the writing becomes a place where the reader feels heard?

Blog as Fun House Mirror

So here was an interesting conversation I had with my stylist the other day. I sit down and she says, “So how is everything in Mansfield?” And it just came out of my mouth, “How the hell should I know? I don’t live in “Mansfield,” I live in my own little Kath bubble. ( I always tell my students to “Go into your yoga bubble. Practice in there. Don’t pay attention to other people.”)

So that’s what I do: I just stay in my Kath Bubble. I don’t live in Mansfield. I am quite detached from what most people in Mansfield do. I read the local paper just to try to understand what might be going on outside the bubble, and what I may need to steer clear of, which is practically everything.

I certainly don’t live in the Wikipedia or the Chamber of Commerce Mansfield. Oh god no. That would be depressing. If I was going to move here, and I saw that profile of Mansfield, I would be ODing on Xanax.

I walk my dog around the university grounds every day. I rent yoga space in Mansfield. I have a few bank accounts in local banks, so I hit up the ATM every once in a while. I also go to a gym and workout with a trainer in Mansfield twice a week. I have a PO box.  But for all that, I don’t think of myself as “living in Mansfield.” Isn’t that crazy? I live in my Kath Bubble that just so happens to be parked in Mansfield at the moment.

Many years ago Ira and I left Mansfield and spent 2 years in Storrs, CT attending Grad school at UConn. Ironically, we lived very close to Mansfield, CT that last year in Connecticut.

When we came back here, we were living in a rental not too far from Mansfield. Within a few days, a Jehovah’s Witness sniffed us out and knocked on the door. I just stood there and wept as she went though her spiel, then closed the door and vowed to make a new start.

I started running. I practiced yoga with beach towel and a book. I taught high school English. I opened Main Street Yoga.

I do like the people I come in contact with every day, though. Yoga students are an interesting subset of the population anywhere, but especially here where I am the only studio in town.

But I am bored here, mostly. Although  I manage to  keep the boredom at bay by staying in my Kath Bubble and tending my projects.


A book I am trying to finish. 

This detox.

A meditation streak and

This blogging streak.

Recently I have also completed projects which have allowed me to call myself a certified Health Coach, and I have won NaNoWriMo.

I try to make art out of my life through this blog.

The blog is like a fun house mirror or a garbled phone message. I take a piece of my life, a piece of experience, a little thought, and manipulate them until they distort and what comes out sounds a lot more interesting than the original experience.

I want to write my way to my purpose.

And I can only do that by posting every day. I need to keep at it and chip away and then I can look back and see what the hell this life was all about.

“How do I know what I think, until I read what I write?” I think it was Virginia Woolf who said that.

That’s what I want to do: write to clarity.

Just a little “streak keeper” post

My eyelid is better. I think the culprit may be the moisturizing oil I use on my face. I love this stuff and I have been using it for well over a year now with great results, but I think it turned on me.

I tried not using it yesterday, and using the stuff I made myself instead.  Before bed, I put on the stuff I bought at the health food store yesterday.

It’s amazing how much better my eyelids look and feel today. Not completely healed, but close. I think I may have found the offending substance. *fingers crossed.*

The Yoga Challenge is now 3 days in. I taught both classes tonight and it was fun.

I have been thinking about will happen to this blog once my Lenten commitment ends the day after tomorrow. (Today is the 44th day in a row without a miss.)

I think I want to continue. One part of me likes the everyday commitment, whether I feel like it or not.

But another part of me wants a break and thinks posting 5 days a week would be plenty.

I’ll decide Monday. Any thoughts?