Video Killed the Radio Star

l-r Hayley, Carly, Michelle and me. (it's only when I see photos of myself that I think, "Gee! I AM really short!)

Now that title may be a little misleading...or narcissistic. Yes I am on radio from time to time, but I am in no way a star. It was just the title that popped into my head and I went with it. Let's give a round of applause to The Buggles for penning that little earworm....or karaoke favorite...

On Saturday I made my way into the city to the studios of Channel 31 to film an episode of No Limits. My dear friend Carly Findlay recently asked me if I would like to come into the studios and sit on a panel of other bloggers to talk about our experiences of blogging from the perspective as a person with a disability. I was thrilled to be asked, regardless of the fact that I struggle with the fact that my blog is in no way the calibre of Carly's or the two other wonderful bloggers I shared the panel with - Michelle from Living With Bob and Hayley from Rellacafa.

(Please head over and give these bloggers some love. Great reads and you'll be educated in the process - just like I was!)

Filming No Limits was such as positive experience. Everyone was just so friendly. It was a real experience having my makeup done for the harsh lights of the studio. Although I love it when I have a makeover my eyes inevitably start streaming when someone approaches them with a mascara wand, undoing a lot of the beautiful work! The atmosphere on the panel was relaxed and friendly - more like a chat than an interview. It's so easy to forget cameras when the conversation is so interesting. I learned so much from the other writers - particularly in regards to just getting out there and writing and telling my story. 

I think that's my biggest struggle - feeling as though my story is mundane; or sometimes not really feeling as though I can share the harder, more personal stuff. My life is so very ordinary, filled with work and commuting, crafting and cooking, catching up with friends and contemplating life, so I find myself wondering, "What exactly is the short statured perspective in all this?" I consider myself very blessed - a family of origin that modelled nothing but acceptance, a body that is fit and healthy without many of the issues that can be  associated with achondroplasia and a workplace that is diverse and accepting - not just of my difference, but of ALL difference. What is there to blog about?

But then I realise that that's exactly what I want to blog about and why I started blogging in the first place. I was tired of news stories, media coverage and newspaper articles about people of short stature taking one of three different directions - wildly inspirational, focusing on the problems that can be associated with being "four foot tall in a six foot world" or capturing a short statured person in the role that ridiculed both the condition and the person and didn't do anything to educate the public in any form.

I wanted to tell my own story. The story of a woman - who didn't even get to the lofty four foot in a six foot world (I'm only 3'10.5") but who just does life and is sometimes confused by a world who still has this tendency to discriminate and judge by appearance. For the most part though, I realise that on a daily basis, most people are just letting me do my own thing. I choose not to look for the people looking or staring or smirking or giggling. Is there a look of surprise when I walk into a business or shop and a customer service person encounters me? Possibly...but I've chosen not to see it, which means that I am free to simply go about my business and perhaps educate just one more person about difference in some small way.

I've also realised that by telling my stories I'm also putting things in order in my own mind. I'm exploring the impact some of my past experiences have had on my own journey towards self-acceptance. Hopefully these stories will help others out there as well - not just people with a condition of dwarfism but for others who struggle with accepting themselves and their appearance.

Spelunking about in the cave space

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I've been quiet on the blogging front lately. I know I shouldn't really even mention that fact and should just blog on as though there has been no absence, but...well...there you go. I mentioned it.

Truth be told I'm hanging about in some kind of cave right now - a'la Gollum-like almost. No...not really...but I still can't get that image out of my head. When I was going through some really heavy stuff a number of years ago I couldn't help but watch the opening scenes of Gollum in LOTR - Return of the King and go..."Yeah mate, I get it." 

I'm getting sidetracked....LOOK! Something shiny!

I've got a number of posts sitting in various states of completion in my Drafts folder...but somehow I can't bring myself to finish them. Blogging is such a curious thing. How does one do a blog without making it too much like a diary? How does one write blog content without the population of the interwebz knowing all the inner machinations of the author's life? Am I too much of an over-sharer, a whiner, an over-thinker? How much of the daily goings-on of the household do I share before it starts being too intrusive on the privacy of the people I love so much?

These are all the things I have been musing on lately. There are times when I regret starting a blog. There! I said it! I am torn between wanting to develop my writing, develop this blog and make it start taking me places and just wanting to chuck it all in and disappear into obscurity.

I think I've said this before.

Truth is, life's just throwing some curveballs again lately (when does it not?) and so I've retreated back to the cave just to have a quiet space just to get through it. I'm like that proverbial little duck you see floating on a pond. On the surface all seems calm and serene, but underneath the water those little legs are paddling furiously to stay afloat!

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Sidenote: I adore ducks!

Sometimes I find myself wondering if these life curveballs will ever stop. Somehow I don't think they will. I'm learning to deal with that. I spent a long time back in my younger days ranting and railing about what I perceived as the unfairness of it all, but I don't do that now. It is what it is and I have learned to accept and sometimes even embrace whatever comes along as opportunities to learn and grow. I've been participating in a writing project over the past year called Letters to Myself, where I have written to my younger 13-year old self. Writing to my 13-year old self made me realise what a pivotal time that was - kind of my Sliding Doors moment - and that if I had've made a different decision that year my life would have been completely different. 

The thought of that actually scared me. 

As a result of writing that letter to my younger self I realised that there isn't one aspect I would change. Not one, regardless of the curveballs that keep being dealt as a result of some of those choices. 

But going back to the cave...I realise I really need it sometimes....and, at the moment, most times. The world out there can sometimes be too big and too sad. Robin William's death today has rocked me, really rocked me. I think the fact that he succumbed to the despair that he felt is the thing that's really hurting....and I think the thing that I can relate to the most. On the surface, Robin seemed like a hilarious, happy-go-lucky kind of guy....but underneath the surface I get the impression that he too was paddling furiously just to stay afloat....and one day he just couldn't keep paddling anymore. 

My cave provides me with silence and solace. A place to just stop and breathe for a little while. There's no one else in there except me...and I can't begin to tell you how much I need that sometimes. In my cave I'm neither upbeat or depressed; I just am. Quiet, thoughtful, restful, contemplative. I do a lot of crocheting, a bit of writing and some organising of my space. It helps. 

Beautiful mess

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I've been absent from the blogosphere. Most of that is because I don't know what to write. I don't know what part of the journey to chronicle as life just seems mundane. We don't really go anywhere. We don't really do anything of local/global significance. Who wants to read about us?

And yet I find myself that the everyday pondering and musings and happenings of other people are exactly the blogs I love so dearly. I love how their words seem to just flow so beautifully on the page screen and I am continually inspired. 

So I determine to write more, and yet I don't. Today I am going with the determination. I shall write about my current musings at least.

I've had plenty of time to muse as well. Last week I was holed up on the couch, feeling very ordinary after a dalliance with gastro. I'm a dreadful sook when it comes to being sick and losing control over what my digestive tract does. I need someone in the room with me as I go through the throes of what gastro entails. I need them to tell me I'm going to be ok. Sad, isn't it? This time the task fell to my eldest daughter, who gallantly stayed in the room, told me I could still breathe after I inhaled at the wrong time and thought I was going to die a rock star death, and got me back to bed again. 

I was also on the couch because my right leg was giving me (and is still giving me) curry. I've been having muscle spasms for over a week now which has drastically reduced the amount of running I've done. I miss it so! This pain is reminiscent of pain I used to be in as a little girl. I remember laying on the couch with my legs in such pain. My father used to sit with me and massage my legs which brought temporary relief. The kids took turns massaging this time. 

So, whilst I was holed up on the couch watching countless DVD's and knitting I also mused a lot about our life, my journey, my current itchy feet, my longings for a simple life, my current relationship status with my husband, faith, religion and world peace........well, not really about world peace, but you get the picture. I began to feel grateful for my body actually making me stop and take some time out to rest and reflect as it healed. Sometimes I think physical sickness is your body's way of making you take time out to give your brain time to de-fragment itself. So, that's what I did...and I chose to stop feeling guilty about my lack of activity and let the world - my world at least - just carry on without me. 

And it did just fine. 

So, with this blog.....I think it's time to just open it up more, be more consistent, stop waiting for the amazing things to happen and just start looking for the small things in every day that are just as amazing.

On blogging

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This blogging business is a hard gig, I have to tell you.

Blogging is different to an online diary. A diary can be a place to hang out and air out - a place to relax with friends over a cuppa or a glass of wine or whatever. In a diary you can spill your guts and say almost whatever because you can make it Friends Only and only a trusted audience can see it...or if you want to just really let out all your angst, vitriol or hatred and everything that's rotten and evil about yourself you can just pound on the keys and hit Private.

Not so with blogging. The purpose of a blog (I have to keep reminding myself) is to get your thoughts out there, to tell a story, to be read, gain readers and have feedback. It's public. It's public. It's public. 

I must remember that.

It's public. 

That means everyone can see it. (der!)

So blogging requires different language. Blogging requires honoring people with anonymity or honoring them by not writing about them at all. Blogging requires permission from others sometimes.

Blogging does, in a way, require self-censorship. Is it okay to post this? Have I gone too far? Have I said something that may hurt someone close to me? Blogging means that you have to re-read, re-edit, re-think, re-write and sometimes keep something in Drafts until you're sure or hit DELETE when you're not. I need to learn when to use the DELETE button.

In the blogging world I am surrounded by people who blog in all sorts of different ways and with different voices. There are some that stick to a theme - like crafting or homemaking, there are the Mummy-bloggers, there are the blogs that review movies and books and products, there are the activist blogs. Some people share a little, some people share their thoughts, some people stick to their theme religiously and some people share EVERYTHING - or so it would seem - births, deaths, addictions, mental illness, sex, falling in love, falling out of love, their child's firsts - first poo, first bath, first breastfeed, first chuck. It's hard sometimes to find your own voice and work out what you're okay about sharing and what other people are okay about you sharing about them.

I'm still trying to work this out. I'm still trying to find my blogging voice. I'll get it terribly wrong sometimes. I may write things that hurt the people I love the most. It's unintentional, but I understand that it will happen. Maybe being out there "on display" has made me insensitive to those that aren't and clueless when it comes to identifying what's okay to share and what isn't. In any case, I choose to remain open and teachable when it comes to learning about this and hope that those who love me will love me enough to let me know when I've overstepped a line.