I got to meet an amazing woman last night. Dina Mehta is someone that i met through the blogging world. Her ideas are so crisp and her politics are so righteous. I’ve had so much fun reading her ideas, so i was delighted to be able to make it. I met her amidst a group of other bloggers. And i will admit that i was bouncing full of energy and disrupted the flow of conversation, but it was so fascinating to hear all of the ideas about blogging.

But it made me think… am i blogger? I never identified as such actually. I mean, i’ve been writing rambles online since 1996, inspired by my dear friend jcn. In 1997, my Zen teacher required that i write down my reflections of the day for me. I did so digitally because he was living in a different city. I wrote journals for friends (under htaccess), started a live journal and eventually switched to MovableType. As i’ve gotten “older” and “wiser” my public rambles have become less emotional… or actually, they just make me feel less vulnerable than the emotional rambles i shared with friends.

Amidst this, “blogging” happened. I didn’t identify as a blogger because my habits didn’t change. I still rambled; friends still made fun of me and i still used the site primarily to lookup my own thoughts. But then something changed. This summer, i became a participant in some community of sorts. My voice was suddenly being read by strangers. My ideas were being critiqued. People were commenting about concepts not just being supportive. It was weird. I didn’t know how to take it.

Through this, i kept attending conferences. People would ask me if i was a blogger. Well, i blog… But it dawned on me that to “be a blogger” meant something entirely different. It’s a state of mind. People walk around and see knowledge floating in the world that they must blog… a compulsion. Well, i have a lot of compulsions, but to archive my observations is not one of them. In fact, it’s a constant struggle of mine. I actually do this because i *should* not because it’s easy. I mean, i always loved Anais Nin, but i could never understand how she wrote so much!

In fact, every time people mention that they read my blog to me, i feel guilty… I mean, i feel like it’s a neglected child. It’s so far from representative of all of the thoughts that go through my mind, all of the critiques that i spew, all of the ideas that i have. I’m embarrassed by the design which is about as adhoc as it gets (thank goodness for RSS feeds).

To “be a blogger” means to identify with this “community of bloggers.” People who are pushing the edge, changing the way people interact with information. I didn’t start blogging to do that, but people keep attributing my work as such. I read so many blogs, although i’m a dreadful commenter. All the same, they are the best ethnographic study. But am i just an observer. Somehow, i seem to have become a participant… perhaps i have “become a blogger” accidentally.