In May I told you about my obsession with analyzing the ongoing quality of my life – daily if not hourly checking how well or poorly I’m doing in the moment.  Yuck!

I said that I would let go of two examples of seeking continuous improvement:

How well I slept, as measured by my Polar watch

How many views I get for these posts, as measured by WordPress stats

You’ll be happy to know that not once since returning from Senegal have I poured over daily sleep stats.  Before then it was hit and miss.  There were four variables that I tracked … and I can’t remember three of them! See how important they were?

That’s the easy part.  Now for the number of views I get on WordPress.  Over these years of writing, has my self-esteem been so fragile that 50 views means I’m good and 10 views means I’m bad?  Since I’ve been well programmed by decades of society to keep things hidden, I’ll now refuse to answer the question.

…

All right – I can’t stand this.  The answer to the question is too often yes.  So much for whatever maturity is.

I’ve written on here about me glimpsing a new realm where it doesn’t matter what comes back from the world … only what I put into it.  Sadly, that hasn’t been my history.

My recent experiment of not viewing WordPress statistics has been difficult.  The groove of needing others’ approval has been worn deep. My experiment since May had been a failure up until about a week ago.

“Come hell or high water, I’m not looking at those numbers.” And I didn’t, even though my right index finger was twitching! Such an ordeal to let my writing stand on its own, unaffected by public participation.

Then there was two nights ago. Sometime during the ordeal of hospital – home – hospital, the fear of dying in my sleep took me. I needed something to gladden my fragile heart.

I chose WordPress views. Somewhere far away, a voice told me not to give in to bad moments, to keep my word. But that voice was a whisper. I clicked and clicked.

It was a consolation … a tepid source of happiness that is really no happiness at all.

***

The pull of seeking approval is so strong

But I am strong too