Nothing New Under the Sun

I long to write and to share things that are thoughtful and useful. I long to write and to share things that are helpful and interesting. I long to write and to share things that mean something to me, and that hopefully mean something to others. I have a list of posts that I have fermenting, some in my brain, some on Word documents, and some in scribbles in journals. A list of posts that I want to write and that I want to be profound. 
But, as I am working on these posts, along comes another blogger, usually someone with a much higher readership than I...and writes about something similar, or writes about something using a similar train of thought as I have been working on. They post it, it gets linked on Social Media, and whooooosh. There it is, everywhere in my feed(s). Or at least that's the way that it seems. 

And I can't help but wondering: If I were to post my thoughts about this subject now, will people think that I'm plagiarizing "their" ideas or riding on the coattails of that other person? Will people think that this piece that I've been working on for a long time, finding the right words and the right thoughts to express what I'm thinking and feeling...will people think that it's less profound because they already read something that someone else wrote about a similar subject? 

At the end of the day, I am, perhaps, plagued by the ever present, nagging fear of Generation X: Maybe I am just another faceless drone in the world, and while I long to be unique and special, I just have nothing new to offer to the world. 
I think that my ever present fear with blogging is that, if I do press "publish" on my treatise on church or parenting or what's going on in the world or what's going on in the depths of my brain...then everyone else will quickly and easily become aware of my ordinariness. Because someone else said something similar or on the same topic first. 

The thought paralyzes me. I freeze up, and I stop writing, wondering  "what's the use?"

It's been part of my silence here the past month or so. And it's a thought that almost had me taking down this site altogether this past week as a subject that I've been working on very hard behind the scenes, something that I have great plans for, was written about and commented on widely within my social circle. My fears kicked into high gear, and I wondered if people would roll their eyes at me when I finally do hit that "publish" button. 
Who does she think she is?

And then I remember: There is nothing new under the sun. And that's okay.
I will probably never have that greatly profound ground breaking thought piece that people stop at and marvel at. Because there is nothing that I can't say that hasn't been said by others a thousand time over...and probably better than how I can possibly say it. And that's okay.
Because what I bring is my perspective and my experience. What I bring is another view, even if it is just one of many.

What I bring is my own voice...and while it may be ordinary, it is mine. And it matters.

So, I will keep writing, for my small audience, yes, but for myself. And I will write things that are important and profound and good...even if to only me. It's not a matter of being the first or even the best. But it's a matter of writing my truth, speaking my story, and wrestling with putting the pieces together as I, and we all, wrestle with figuring out this thing called life. 

And I will finish and publish those pieces that I've been working on, because they are important to me, and perhaps they'll be important or helpful of meaningful to someone else.

A Walk Around the Block

I laced up my shoes, slipped my husband's Red Sox winter hat over my morning head of hair, and headed out my front door. The neighborhood was calm and quiet, post-rush-hour and pre-I've-got-to-get-to-work. I put my headphones in my ears, pushed play on the podcast of the day, and walked down my driveway for a brisk walk around the neighborhood. 

Anyone who knows me, or who has ever known me, is often surprised and a little shocked that I would do such a thing. 

Because, for the first time in my life, I'm intentionally going on walks that are more than walks, but an effort to get and stay healthy. I'm buying exercise gear and actually wearing it out of the house during daylight hours. I've been a member of different gyms, and still try to go with regularity, but I've never made the move towards actually getting out and doing this exercise in such a public way. 

Why? I've been too embarrassed, convinced that people will see me, out and about, sweaty, jiggly, and gross, and they will laugh at me. I've been convinced that I need to be in that perfect toned shape that you see on the cover of running magazines in order to don the gear and go outside with any semblance of dignity. 

We are told in our culture that we're supposed to hate our bodies. We're supposed to want to change everything about them, more in some places, less in others, a different slope of the nose, a different...well, everything. I once had someone look with horror at my calves, sincerely distressed by just how huge they were. How huge they are. (Side note: I can not, and have never been able to, wear those cute knee high boots that come out every winter. My calves are just simply too big in circumference). 

As  a result, we're given guide after guide about how to form and mold and shape our bodies into the picture of perfect ideals. And we strive for it...going as far as punishing our bodies, subjecting them to grueling workouts or undergoing radical surgeries...but also spending  a fortune on body shaping undergarments, reminiscent of the corsets of days long past, or dying our hair, slathering makeup on our faces, or wearing impossibly high heels in order to reach a desired height. We strive and we strive, always reaching for that ideal that we pin up on our wall or our refrigerator as a reminder to not eat so much. 

And as a result, we're so unhealthy...maybe not physically, but spiritually and emotionally. We spend so much time picking out the flaws and the imperfections, and focusing so much of our time and energy onto eliminating those flaws and imperfections from our bodies and our lives....that we forget to celebrate and thank God for what we do have, and the way that we are created. We forget to recognize that we, in fact, are all created in the image of God. No matter what we look like or how we are built.  

We forget to care for the bodies that we have been given, in all their beautiful diversity. We forget to nurture the bodies that we have been given. We forget to embrace and celebrate the bodies that we have been given.

I eat mostly right. I exercise regularly. I am pretty healthy, except for a genetic predisposition towards hypertension that reared it's ugly head in my 36th year of life. But I am short, with huge calves. I have had a child, which has ever changed my body shape and weight distribution (also made some other changes, preventing me from wearing high heels for any longer than an hour or so at a time). I am never going to look like a model...nor am I ever going to look lie the women on the cover of Running Magazine. 

I am thankful for the body that I have, and I will continue to care for it to the best of my ability. I will celebrate the flaws and acknowledge them as as part of me as my height and eye color. 

I will not be ashamed. 

And so, I will continue to lace up my shoes, get out there, and walk...maybe someday jog, but today, I will walk...

And I will do so, huffing and puffing, with my head held high.