Ready or not part 3 (the self writes a blog)

I know, it's ridiculous, but I recently discovered that I am writing this blog.

I was considering sharing this blog with the people in my class at East Bay Meditation Center. But then I thought, "Uh oh, if I tell them, they might read that post about me being all pompous with my meditation skills. They might find out that I thought I was better at mediating than they were."
"But you did think you were better at mediating than they were."
"Yeah but they didn't know that. If they read the blog and then see me, they'll know."
GASP!
"Oh my gosh. The people at the zen center read my blog, and they see me... oh shoot- they know! They know- they know all about me- I share a lot on this blog and then I walk around there, and, like, they know these things about me. Oh my gosh what have I been doing?"
"Okay," I concluded. "Time to stop the blog. You can't keep sharing all this stuff. This is way too personal."
And I thought about comments I've gotten on my posts, and how sometimes they scare me or surprise me and I thought, "Yeah, this is a little too much, a little too vulnerable."
Then I thought about the comments that just make me feel good. (Sorry, I don't mean to categorize the comments, it's just honestly what I thought.)
I thought, "Well, it's kind of a 50/50 thing here. It's true: if you give up the blog, you give up being challenged, being open to criticism, open to hurt. But you also give up being appreciated, noticed, seen."

But then I thought about the comments I received on my post about seeing my "real" self. In those comments, people shared how they saw me, and it was really informative to see myself through the eyes of others. Then I thought again about the comments that scared me or pointed out my mistakes and I thought, "It's true. They hurt and they were scary but they taught me a lot about myself and they made me grow. And also, that hurt that I felt, that fear that I might be "wrong" or that people might not like me,  that's me turning a comment into a judgment."
I thought about this world, and how silly it is of me to think that I can just be and not ever receive feedback from the people around me, never make mistakes or mess things up. I'm in this world, with others. It's not like I can just live my life without having an effect or having no one say anything about it. And also,  it's feedback, it might feel like hurt but it's not meant that way- it's people sharing their truth with you, it's people seeing you and telling you about it.

I wondered about this whole separation thing I had been doing. How I kept creating this space, this boundary between the person who interacted with others and this person who I thought was me.
"Oh, that's a nice little buffer there. If that person- the one who interacts with others- makes a mistake, hurts someone, does something you think is wrong; you can deny it, you don't have to feel that."
And I thought, "There it is again, That not feeling. In the same way that this little buffer keeps you from feeling hurt, rejection, loss; it also keeps you from feeling the love of others. That's why you don't feel it, that's why you feel disconnected, alone. You have a choice here. You can stay protected but it means you're all by yourself and it means you won't feel their love. And also, think about what you think is hurt and rejection, is it really so bad? Does it stick around forever? And honestly, most of it is actually people seeing you, caring enough to say what they see, and still liking you. They stick around, you're the only one leaving... "

So I'm sticking around. I'm staying open to hurt and criticism and feedback and comments. I think I can do this because it's a blog, so I can just click the x button and go off and cry by myself for a while if I need to. But I also think that it's teaching me that real interactions, real hurt, might be tolerable, and might bring me closer to people, might bring me closer to being seen.