A couple of weeks ago, I received a notice that my site hosting plan was soon to expire. Last time I renewed it was three years ago. The three year option was the overall lowest monthly cost once broken down. I am, after all, frugal nearly to the core. It also keeps the “Should I stay or should I go now” song out of my head.
So, when the notice came up once more to renew, the accountant in my head, wanted to know if it was worth the money. This is where the debate begins between the heart and the head.
Ever notice how your head talks in the negative and your heart in the positive? Not always I guess, but on average it seems to go that way.
For example, my head interprets numbers and stats with questions like: “well Sal, you didn’t exactly write a lot in the last three years. How much did each of those posts cost you? If you broke it down per reader, would you be better off just sending a letter? Why would you even think that people would want to continue to read the stories if you do continue to write? Are you willing to pay and write even if no one reads?’
And why is it that the questioning voice is always the loud one? The heart responds with answers that are quiet and can’t quite be quantified.
I’m trying to think just now, who that negative voice is that I’m fighting with. I mean, if this naysayer in my head calls me by Sal or Sally or Sally Jean or Minnie Lou or any other personal name, how come it has power to call me out by name, yet I don’t reply to this negative Nelly by any name? Another post to figure that one out I suppose.
So, the meeker, softer voice chimes up that it’s not about money, it’s about sharing. Sharing my thoughts and stories and thus, getting shared responses in return. The payoff is in the connection to whomever decides to read, yes it isn’t many, but the few who do are more dear to me than anything I’d buy with said funds. And yes, to stay connected to them is worth any amount of money.
For days, the naysayer continues to rant in a loud voice that it doesn’t make sense or add up. Just let it expire, you can still write or text people, you can use the money to actually go see them. The justifications are there from the naysayer and when the negative voices are loud enough, it’s not hard to jump on board.
As the internal war rages on periodically throughout my days, my heart isn’t ready to give in, so I think that maybe I need a mediator. I’ll text someone or put it up for debate on the blog. The naysayer scoffs and reminds me that those are the ones who encourage me, of coarse they aren’t going to tell me to pack it up. So, I think about reaching out to people who don’t read my blog, but the naysayer rejects them as well on the grounds that everyone will be supportive to something creative if they aren’t paying for it. The naysayer accuses me of only fishing for compliments or false accolades. Alright I begin to think, if I cannot find anyone to give me good reasons not to continue, then why is my mind saying no. This is where the light turns on into that dark space without a name.
My heart starts to feel the responses, the encouragement already voiced directly to my face, through mail, text and replies to posts. Shoot, my Aunts alone are enough support to keep me going. “Hello, my brother even chimes in for support these days”, I say in thought to the naysayer.
Then, in the quiet hours of one morning – the time when it feels like all truths are spoken – I remember something about learning that you don’t break through out of your comfort zone and into new amazing spaces by listening to the negative voice in your psyche. In fact, the louder that voice is, the more likely it is that you should take the step or leap of where your heart is directing.
Before the simple basic facts could get clouded by partial truths. I got out the credit card and paid for another three years. It’s still the cheapest option if broken down by month. and I won’t have to have this mental argument again for another three years.
I jumped in the shower and since the naysayer had been silenced on this topic, a new justification came to mind. Suddenly, I was saying to myself that if I had something to share, and it was a small semi-private space where people could pop in and look around and we could chat, then that was worth way more money than I was spending. Essentially, that was exactly what the hosting site was. A spot along the dusty road where mostly my relatives and a few friends swing by as they have a cup of coffee or tea and give a nod of acknowledgement or a few words. Every so often a stranger even stops in. Sure, it could be that they didn’t recognize the sign out front, but still it is interesting when they pop in. “Where was this argument when I needed you against the naysayer”, I think to myself. I suddenly feel like George Costanza from Seinfeld who could never think of the proper come back response until it was too late.
Partial truths can create a bucket of doubt, but when that bucket gets kicked over, those doubts drain away pretty quickly.
Besides, for now, I’ve said I would put up a story every now and then for distraction/amusement/thought or just to pass some time, so may as well put it where it can be shared.
Thanks for the support to get the through those mental arguments.