Blog From A Hermit Dot Com

A Blogging Hermit Status Report

That last post on on Most Memorable Hermit Dick Proenneke flipped a switch. It flipped my blogging switch to the”OFF” position and I’ve been searching for the “ON” switch for a whole week now. I’ve had several opportunities and flashes of insight that would have easily translated into decent posts, but I couldn’t get myself to sit down and blog. It’s not writer’s block – I’ve done other writing this week.  I’ve even Twittered this week in comfortable spurts, so it’s not like I’m trying to hide (a periodically attractive option for hermits). So what gives?

I think it’s back to that original question: “Can you get blog from a hermit?” Or perhaps, more accurately, can you get blog from this hermit?

I can identify the specific aspect of the Dick Proenneke post that killed the power – my stated admiration for Proenneke’s careful and disciplined documentation of his life. Admiration is one thing – choosing similar personal action is another. I was painfully reminded of my personal resistance to documenting my own life. Perhaps I’m just not a journalist.  I just can’t seem to force myself to blog about my day-to-days. I can Twitter about them a bit, but keeping the camera handy or getting much of the little stuff down has no appeal to me.

I’m oriented toward life with an audience of one – the audience is me (and occasionally Griz).  I experience the story as it unfolds and the documentation seems unimportant. I value most the internal journey – the private one.  With the possible exception of that decade between my mid-teens and mid-twenties (when most of us are hyper-fascinated by exploration of our own specialness and autonomy), I’ve always felt the physical stuff and activity of my life are essentially just context. This is true even though I’ve chosen to live a fairly active, physical life.

When I started this blog I imagined myself taking more photos. I set the new camera on a tripod – pointing it out the window to the most frequent trail of that elusive bobcat – and got not one glimpse of him for weeks. Then, he finally showed up on the morning after I’d taken a day trip over the mountains. He was in a playful mood and even took a few romps up the mossy maple tree.  Which means he was here for two minutes instead of one. I’d gotten home late, the camera was not back to the tripod – and the memory card was still out after downloading. Not enough time to reassemble and shoot. There was symbolism in the event – or non-event.  If a bobcat comes by and you don’t get a photo – was there ever a bobcat?

During the 10 weeks since I started this blog, I have posted more than twice as often as I anticipated (a good thing); and most posts have been considerably longer than I anticipated (not such a good thing). But there’s also been a stream of bloggable events and activities which I’ve lived and intentionally not documented.

At the same time, the Most Memorable Hermits list grows. It’s actually easier for me to talk about others than myself. The list is a retreat for me. With each new hermit on the list, this blog tracks further away from me. I realize my voice may appear in each post, but that, my friends, may be the most I can share – and only in measured doses.

During this week of analyzing “what the #$%@ am I doing here,” I wandered about the blogosphere seeking inspiration and answers. Andrew Sullivan’s article Why I Blog in this month’s Atlantic Monthly had several great insights, although many of the reasons Sullivan blogs are very close to the reasons why I would not blog. This from his article seems like an accurate description of the blogosphere, and an accurate description of this neophyte’s reaction to it: “Today, it feels like a universe of cranks, with vast, pulsating readerships, fighting with one another. To the neophyte reader, or blogger, it can seem overwhelming.“

Yep,  almost too noisy for a hermit – so why add to the cacophony?

On the other hand, I also agree with him that the “universe of cranks” opens vast opportunities for new levels of connectedness and limitless expressions of individuality.  Hermit or not, I concede both of those are vital to humanity’s long-term survival.

So, I will blog on. I certainly have much more to learn about blogging and Blog from a Hermit will wind up being whatever it is for as long as it does with or without the “day-to-days” of this hermit’s life.
As a symbolic gesture of commitment, I’ve ordered a second memory card for the camera (just hadn’t gotten around to it). I’ll get a photo of that big kitty yet.

During this “week of my discontent,” blogging coach, Steve Mays posted a timely little blurb entitled The Fuller Brush Man. In part he says:

“The hard part is finding people who… I wish I could come up with a better word… people who “get” this whole Internet thing. Sure, everybody uses email and Google and all that, but for most the net is where you go to find something rather than create something.

“Posting photos to flickr, writing a blog, even something as simple as Twitter involves sharing something of yourself. Expressing who you are. It’s walking out on that high school stage and singing Killing Me Softly. A lot of people just can’t do it.”

And some of us who apparently can do it, are not always certain we want to.