"11 new comments," my notice tells me.
I experience a moment of panic. Trepidation fills my heart. And I wonder yet again, 'Why do I come up with potentially controversial post topics on Fridays?' I write something and then leave it out there for the blogosphere to chomp on for a weekend. What am I thinking?
There's even more feedback on Facebook. Yikes.
And this is the paradox of being a blogger: I love comments, they make my day, they remind me that what I do matters to someone... and yet, there's always the fear that I've really upset you, pushed you over the edge, made you bust out the pitchforks, torches, tar and feathers. It's an emotional roller-coaster of "They love me!" plunging into the dread of "They hate me, yes?"
Sometimes my heart can't take it, friends. Even without the tar and feathers I'm still a chicken inside. As a blogger, my success rides entirely on my reception. If no one bothers to read anymore, it's curtains for me.
And then I begin to read the comments. Such wonderful comments! Even those who disagree or take issue with my position are gracious and kind. What a joy! What love! Up the slope I go, reveling in the heights to which I've climbed. Ignoring, for the moment, the plunge that awaits just beyond the crest.
I hate roller-coasters.
As parents, and homeschoolers to boot, we experience similar moments of panic. Perhaps not as sharp or clearly evidenced, but the fear is still there. Is what I'm doing good for my children, or am I causing irreparable harm? Our success as parents and homeschoolers rests on the response of others: Our children.
That's scary, friends. This gig isn't for the faint of heart. And yet we're all a little unsure at times. The doubt creeps in...
What can you do?
Read the comments. Read the comments of others about what you're doing. Read a few of the Sonlight Moments in the widget on the side of my blog. See what people are saying on Facebook. Read the hundreds of amazing and encouraging quotes in the Sonlight Catalog. Such wonderful comments! What joy! What love! And up the slope you go...
...so next time you take a plunge you can enjoy it instead of experiencing a moment of panic...
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father