I want this blog to be perfect.
I want the words to be strong, poignant, inspiring. I want the various writings to complement each other, to fit into the same genre, to speak the same language. I want the furnishings to be aesthetically pleasing, color-coordinated, well organized.
Sometimes I look back at my archives, at blogs describing internships and camp experiences for a narrow audience of friends and family, and I wonder if I should start over. Start a new blog that is more streamlined, cohesive, attractive.
Maybe this would bring more readers, I think, the Attention-Seeker vying with the Perfectionist in me.
That’s not a good reason.
If I tried to make this blog perfect, if my focus was on having the best-manicured plot of online real estate, it would turn into something artificial and unrelatable. I would write less, and even the writings that did manage to get past my critical internal editor would be crippled by the pressure to fit into a certain mold.
It’s true that the reason why I blog has changed over the years. The place where I would update friends and family on an internship of mine four years ago has become the place where I write what is on my heart, what I am learning, what I am living.
This blog has days-in-the-life and devotionals, recountings and reflections, lists and lamentations. And you know what? That’s okay. This is my life, these are my “bends in the road.” Some people will be able to relate to my journey, while others will not.
It’s not perfect, and it doesn’t always fit within the same well-defined theme, but isn’t that how all journeys – and lives – are?