A friend came up to me at a party. “So I’ve finally started reading your blog and now I totally feel like shit!” she joked.
What my friend was really saying is that when she reads about No Spend Month, and keeping the garden, and cooking from scratch, she feels like maybe she should be doing that stuff too. Never mind that she single-handedly coordinates all the volunteer and fundraising activities for her son’s school, keeps chickens, always makes time for her friends (I barely talk to my best friends) and is raising a wonderful family. Somehow she came away feeling like her own life’s fullness wasn’t enough.
First, let me be clear: the point of this blog is never, ever to make someone feel like they aren’t doing enough or need to be keeping up with me – or anyone else – in the garden or elsewhere. If you kick around here for awhile and get inspired to go grow a kale plant (or, hell, just try cooking kale for the first time) I’m thrilled. Really. If that’s as far as it goes for you, I’m still thrilled. My thing doesn’t need to be everyone’s thing.
That said, I kinda get it. This virtual blog world is great. You get to see what other people are doing, find a community of like-minded folks, and swap tips and ideas and inspiration. But it is so easy to see other people’s thing and want to emulate their passion and pretty, close-up-photography-documented successes.
I want to be plastic-free like Plastic Free Life, I want to be a wealth of green knowledge and action like Crunchy Chicken, I want a berry patch like Martha Freaking Stewart (and the help to maintain it), I want to simplify my world like ZenHabits, I want to have exciting and educational activities planned for my children like Simple Homeschool, I want to have my financial house in order like Get Rich Slowly, I want to be prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse like Survival Mom, I think I’d like to write a book like Kelly Coyne or Erik Knutzen or Novella Carpenter or Harriet Fasenfest, and I definitely want the body I had pre-second-baby back (and I’d like it back, now, please, without the year of solid work it’ll take to reclaim it).
|If only keeping those abs didn’t take 3 hours a day I might still have them.|