Kate Clarity – Walnuts n Pears, LLC
I have about a hundred things on my to-do list, some in writing, some floating around in my head slipping in and out of my conscious and subconscious, but for some reason I’m compelled to write. In my mind I had decided that I would complete the last design on my plate before writing, but my mind is nagging and my fingers are aching.
So I sit. The sky is grey, the air is cool. My well-worn slippers attempt to keep my toes warm. Daylight shines in the windows beside and behind me, but there is no warmth from sun rays today. The only warm light comes from a lamp across the living room. The amber glow reminiscent of sunny summer days and yet calling me to light a fire in the fireplace all at the same time.
As I stepped out for a walk this morning I took mental notes as to how everything is surviving the early cold. Some of the hardiest plants still look beautiful, clinging to their slender, burgundy leaves, but the Hydrangeas, whose colors so vibrant just days ago, have lost the battle with the frost and now hang, limp and black.
It reminds me of us. We, much like plants, trees and shrubs, have many different characteristics. We grow at different paces, we bloom at different times, we reach different heights and while some of us have the strength of the mighty Oak, others are delicate like flowers. However, all of us, just like the plants, trees, shrubs and animals around us, are vulnerable. Some people live their life protecting themselves, keeping themselves from being vulnerable, never letting others in. In certain situations, I think that we all do. And in some cases, keeping to ourselves is necessary, but for the most part I think the only way to connect with people is to let our guard down, take off our masks and open ourselves up and be vulnerable.
To me, vulnerability is beautiful. It’s taking chances, letting people see who we really are at the risk of not having everyone’s approval, at the risk of getting hurt, but when we are vulnerable we also have so much to gain. Putting ourselves out there for others to see us as we really are opens paths to true, deep friendships, it opens doors to life experiences we would have otherwise missed.
Today I looked up the definition of “blog”. In my head I had my own definition, but had never stopped to look up the real definition of a blog. (For those of you who care, and didn’t already know, it’s a shortened version of “web log”.) In any case, I was stunned to find one statistic showing that in the year 2012 there are over 110 million active blogs in the world. That’s a lot of words! Okay, granted, some are photo blogs so they aren’t all words, but still, that’s pretty incredible.
It got me thinking. Why? Why do so many people blog (Yes, “blog” is both a noun and a verb.)? Did all these people write before there were blogs? Where? I have journaled for a good portion of my life, and I still journal the old-fashioned way with a pen and paper, but I didn’t write out loud, for others to hear, until I started my blog. So I wonder, did all of these bloggers (noun) have journals or perhaps other sources of outlet? Or were they like me with their thoughts and words all tied up inside until the day they began their blog. And who reads them? Who reads mine? And why? Why are we reading blogs?
I follow a couple of handfuls of blogs. Some for fun, some for crafty ideas, some for home decorating ideas, some for organizing ideas, some for writing, but I would have to say the majority of the blogs I read, I enjoy them because the people behind them are real. They are sincere, open and honest. They are vulnerable. And while I’ve never met the majority of them, I find their vulnerability beautiful. I feel like I know them, understand them.
On the pages of my blog, you’ll see goofiness, gardening, cooking, updates on my mindful living and health journeys and various other topics. Although I’m not sure why you come here or what you prefer to read, my goal is to always give you me. Open, honest, me. Each time I sit at my computer, every word I write, every typo that slips by, every thought I jot, every photo I post and every vision I share, I give you me. As I write, as I post, I am like the mighty Oak, like the delicate flowers, like the wilted Hydrangeas, I am putting myself out there, I am taking a risk, I am being vulnerably me.
Kate
Walnuts n Pears 