On Endings, Letting Go, and Trying to Grow Up (still)

Sometimes I think if I could change one thing about myself, it would be my aversion to change. I've never dealt with it well I always hold on to things long past their expiration date.

I call myself sentimental sometimes. After all, I started a blogging event called "Book Blogger Appreciation Week" I often feel insuppressible affection when people are just being their normal selves, I hold on to physical items that remind me of special times. But I don't know if that's the right word exactly.

Even the happiest moments in life are covered in a sense of loss. Nothing lasts forever, how often do we hear this refrain, so much so that even when we feel happy and satisfied, we can also feel a tight longing--a knowledge that this life is temporal and always shifting. If we look on our hard times and say, "This too shall pass" it's only sense making that sentiment covers our good times as well.

I have a hard time going with the natural flow of change. I hold on until it's abundantly clear I should have let this thing go long before. Nothing is made to be permanent and that's good for the most part. We are creatures of evolution and change. I hate the part of my nature that fights it so much. I wish I could relax into the rhythm of life and let go when all signs point to an ending.

But every once in awhile I try to predict it and I make the charge and end things early. Not because it's a natural ending point, but because I fear still being there, still holding on when I should have moved on. Every once in awhile I try to be proactive in this way, but it usually doesn't work out the way I think it should.

I feel like I'm getting too old for this. Surely I've lived enough life now that this should be easier, that I shouldn't feel a sense of shame when I realize I still care when others have moved on, I shouldn't mourn every passing thing, I should know that's there always something else out there, something more, something else and even if it isn't exactly the same it will be right for the time. I remember when my sister and her husband had to get a new car. They were living in Costa Rica at the time and visiting the States and when they told my niece, she cried. She didn't want to say goodbye to that other vehicle that had been in their family so long, that held so many memories. But it didn't work right anymore, it couldn't be what they needed any longer. It had done its job and they needed to move on. If the old doesn't clear itself out, there's no room for the new. But when I saw her tear stained face, all I could think was how much I understood. But surely I'm not like a seven year old girl anymore, surely I'm beyond that...

There's this line in "You've Got Mail" a movie I love, when Kathleen decides to close her store. And her friend Birdie says, "closing the store is the brave thing to do...You are daring to imagine a different life." I think about this line often (the whole movie is so gorgeously written, a lot of lines come to mind often!) About the brave thing to do. About imagining that things can be different. About imagining that things can be better than a thing you already love so much.

In Which I Bare My Soul

“The more concerned you are to avoid saying anything wrong or offensive, the less likely you are to say anything inspiring or true.” --Michael Kinsley

I read the above quote on Tess Gerritsen's blog and it really struck me. I am Miss Conflict Avoidance and because on blogs there's a huge tendency for misunderstanding I often shy away from taking a strong stand on things. Well, not always. But sometimes. ;)

I also think there's a tendency to just show our strength on blogs. We want people to think the best of us and there's enough drama in real life. Well, lately there's been enough drama in the blogging world too. And someone recently reminded me that bloggers can hide and not be transparent.

So I thought I'd write a post that shows you some of what I feel. Maybe you'll stop reading my blog. Or maybe you'll just know me a little better.

Last year when BBAW was over, I sent out surveys to ask for people's opinions. I won't be doing that this year for a couple of reasons. 1) Enough people have already publicly and privately expressed their opinions to me that I feel I have enough feedback to go on. 2) I am most interested in the feedback of those willing to volunteer. Therefore when volunteer applications go up...if you have an opinion you want to see put into action...volunteer!

Anyway, last year I sent out these surveys and they were anonymous, therefore a few came back that were SCATHING. I get that this is to be expected but I was crushed. In context, I was exhausted and had just poured hours of work into BBAW. But also I'm a sensitive person, there's no point trying to lie about it. There's a huge difference between constructive criticism and simply ranting about what you didn't like.

So I posted about it, but more to say thank you to the kind people. And someone commented that it was too bad the negative words stood out so strongly against the kind words. I have been thinking about that ever since. Why? Why do sharp critical words undo the good so many words of kindness do?

And it became clear to me this year. The critical words dig deep because they are like a confirmation of what I already suspect is true. I'm not good enough. I can't be good enough. I can't hope to successfully pull off an event like BBAW -- someone else could do it better. Someone who has been on prestigious awards committees or recognized by national publications. My blog and my attempt at an online festival for book bloggers will never be anything more than small potatoes--not to be taken seriously. The words of criticism confirm THE LIE.

The truth is...I'm not good enough. I can't be good enough on my own. This is why I'm a Christian....being a Christian allows me to fully embrace the reality that I can never be enough on my own. Anything that is good in me comes from Jesus. And daily He is renewing me and making me new. This is such a mystery and such a joy and such a relief. When I choose to believe this way, the words of kindness and the words of criticism become less important. My value is not found in what people say about me or my work but in my relationship with God and with others.

For the past four years, I have worked in a literacy program that celebrates failure. What I mean by that is we don't see failing or making a mistake as a negative thing. We see it as a valuable part of the learning process. That doesn't make our students feel better when they fail--it's still crushing and disappointing. But we provide an atmosphere where it's safe. There's no reason to expect perfection from the get-go. I think no less of my students when they fail...in fact I tell them it's an important part of learning. I try to apply this to my own life. It's not easy. Our society and culture demands and expects perfection. It rewards success and has little tolerance for weakness. But failure is important. Mistakes are necessary. We need them to learn, to be better.

It would have been great if we could have had a flawless BBAW last year and this year as well. But at the same time, I like to think that we're trying...just like the brain tries to learn to read or ride a bike and it takes several attempts before a right system is acheived we are trying out different ways of making the awards fair and the week fun and inclusive of all blogs. And I've definitely learned a lot through the whole process...not just about how to make BBAW better, but about how people deal with things differently, about the people I should give my respect to, and about love. I've been humbled by the graciousness of some.

I would be lying to say there wasn't a time or two when I was tempted to throw in the towel. BBAW is a lot of work with little tangible reward. Which is great when you think people are enjoying it, but it does become something to reconsider when it opens you up to random Twitter attacks, thinly veiled attacks in blog posts and references, and the general feeling that maybe it was the worst idea you ever had. :)

But then I remember it's okay to fail. I remember the encouraging words, I see people excitedly talking about the new blogs they discover and others touched by kind words said about them. We are human and we crave affirmation and BBAW is my love letter to the book blogosphere. It's not a letter everyone wants...I get that. But for those that do...I'm happy to give it.

I'm not asking for compliments or feedback on BBAW on this post. I just want to share where I'm coming from, why I'm willing to try again and that I'm really just very human.

(I do welcome feedback and concerns about BBAW at bookbloggerappreciationweekATgmailDOTcom I cannot reply to every email, but I do read them all. Feel free to tell me everything about how you feel especially if you are interested in the future of BBAW and wish to see it improve)