The Profound Effect of a Blog

I am at a federal government training facility this week. The statue in this picture is here on campus. It is moving and inspirational. (Sorry for the lack of picture quality; I still am not on board with this Blackberry thing).

I come here about twice a year to co-teach a course that I helped to write years ago, and have updated from time to time. It is a challenging and intellectually stimulating course, and fun to teach. I happen to be here this time to attend and speak at a national conference being held here. It's enjoyable to come up here and see people (facility management and training course managers) I have known over many years.

As I was sitting with one of my colleagues during a bit of down time, he said that he had noticed a change in me that he liked. He said he noticed that change the last time he saw me (last fall), but didn't say anything then. His comment was that I am clearly relaxed, happy, and seem to smile much more than ever. He said that I laugh often, and teach with renewed energy and passion. His question to me was, "what happened?"

Well, it's like this. Five years ago I was in a job that once was enjoyable and fun, and made me feel highly productive and valued. I was generally a happy guy, but often I would let daily stresses show themselves by how I acted. I was sometimes short, sometimes pompous, sometimes "Mr.-know-it-all."

Then things took a real bad turn for the worse due to a re-organization. 18 years of fun were destroyed in one horrible year of sadness. I had become the most miserable, unhappy person. I would come home from work and chop my partner's head off with negative, angry retorts. I was very hard to be around. I left that job in the Fall of that year, and don't regret it.

Then my uncle needed me. Over the course of the year after leaving that miserable job, I saw him through the winter of his life until his gentle and dignified passing, at home in familiar surroundings. I had begun to document how I was feeling in a diary of sorts. I would record how I was feeling, what I was thinking, and what I thought I wanted to be when I grew up. Assisting someone who was dying started a change in me. I stopped taking myself so seriously, and I began to celebrate the little things in life that make it grand.

Soon after my uncle died, I accepted an offer of a position at a well-respected non-profit organization in Washington, DC, and within a few years, was promoted to a management position. It's a comfortable, supportive, and professional place to be. Good people help bring out the best in me.

I also converted that written diary to a blog. I began to document daily activities, thoughts, ideas, and my passionate interest in boots and leather, life as a masculine gay man, Harley rider, and my concern for seniors and their safety in order to continue to live independently, as I had enabled my uncle to do. I frequently write about my partner and his profound, important, and life-altering impact on my life and how it is so much better because of him.

Yes, I think often about what I will write on this blog. Usually, it is about joy, happiness, and smiles. Fun stuff, like riding my Harley, and interacting with family and friends.

I guess that's it: my diary and then this blog have had a profound effect on my outlook on life. It causes me to think about what I want to say about myself to the world. So I say it, but more importantly, I act it. I am more relaxed. I look for ways to express joy and happiness. I poke fun at my own foibles and failures, 'cause I'm not perfect by any means. I no longer think I have the answers for everything. I love to learn. I love life.

I frequently say, "Life is short: show those you love that you love them" or "wear your boots and leather" or "be safe out there." All these things... an effect of a blog, which has translated into daily life that is more rich and rewarding.

Sum it up by saying that it's noticed by people with whom I work professionally, by my family, by my the man who means the world to me (my partner), by my friends, but most of all -- and what's most telling -- is by people who did not know "the old me." A conference attendee stopped me in the hallway last night and said, "That was a great presentation you gave. It inspired me in my work. You made (our profession) sound like fun! Thanks!"

Yep: Life is short -- make it fun!