chasing answers newsletter #70
The Creator's Quandary
“I don’t know why people are so keen to put the details of their private life in public; they forget that invisibility is a superpower.” - Banksy
Happy Sunday!
Is it possible to be a creator when you don’t want to be seen or heard?
That probably sounds crazy.
What I’m trying to say is, I don’t like to share.
I don’t enjoy telling people about what I am working on or what I am doing. And by default, I think less of people who do.
There, I said it.
That sentiment sums up a major struggle of mine since I began writing a year and a half ago. I have hesitated to say it out loud because it goes against the “build-in-public,” "your story matters," or “write for the person two steps behind you” mentality that is so prevalent in the writing groups I have been a part of.
My biggest issue with writing, distribution, and being an active member of platforms like Twitter (X) comes down to that fact. It’s not that I’m afraid to publish my thoughts or worry about what others will think.
I’m worried about what I will think. Of myself.
I think less of people who make their private lives public. Even those who share tactfully have always had a special place at the bottom of my "people I hope to hang out with" list.
And yet, for the last year and a half, I’ve used my writing to do just that: share parts of my life (in fact, by telling you my feelings on this topic, I am doing it right now.)
And it makes me like myself less.
Not only do I have a natural disdain for those who overshare, I have an equal level of admiration for those who do the opposite. Those individuals who could fill a New York Times best-seller list, but you would never expect it.
During a summer in college, I met one of these people. He was married to a lady I worked with at my summer job.
One day, at a company gathering, I found myself sitting next to him, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels. He looked like a cowboy, and as our conversation progressed, I discovered my initial impression wasn't far off.
He was into horses. Not million-dollar thoroughbreds for breeding or racing. Just regular old horses that he traveled the country and even parts of the world with so he could horseback ride and camp in places many of us will never see.
He didn't exactly volunteer most of this information. My nagging questions (along with the help of Jack) pulled most of it out of him.
At one point, I made a statement along the lines of, "You must have some incredible pictures of all of these places."
His answer was quick and succinct but has stuck in my head for over two decades.
"Nah, man, pictures wouldn't do it justice."
"So, you don't have any pictures?" I asked.
"I don't own a camera," he replied.
I had one other conversation with that gentleman in my life, for a total of two. And I can tell you, I've thought about him way more often than anyone I've ever seen on social media.
There is something incredibly noble to me about doing something for the sake of doing it, without the need to share it with the world or, for that matter, anyone else at all.
For most of my life, I like to think that's how I lived. No social media. No sending my thoughts to complete strangers through email. And no feelings of having to capture something worth sharing.
Since beginning this newsletter, there have been times when I have caught myself, in moments that should have been personal, thinking, "This will be great to write about," or "I need to get a pic of this to use at some point in the future."
And I don't like it.
All of our lives are becoming marketing material. Another cog in the social media machine that is underlying our economy.
I don't know if I'm built for that. I want my life to be enjoyable, meaningful, and memorable. For me and those closest to me.
I don't want it to be marketable, shared with the world willy-nilly, and valued based on views and likes.
And most importantly, I just want to like myself.
Photo(s) of the Week
Invisibility IS a superpower.
I hope you all have a great week!
If you want to see more of my work, please visit chasinganswers.co.
Thank you for reading, and if you liked what you read, please share.
randy
I have always felt the very same way as you do Randy. The guy with no camera is also my idea of a real hero, and I'm glad you shared his story. None-the-less, motivated by the desire to share something of value and benefit to a wider audience, I've made a concerted effort to get over my extreme reticence to share my thoughts, creativity, and work life more publicly online. I took that step also with the fear that I wouldn't like myself for joining the hordes of online attention seekers.
Personally, I've been very pleasantly surprised that the intelligence of the universe seems to pervade all realms, even the internet! The mysterious "powers that be" have seen to it, that despite my efforts, I remain invisible and unknown to more than 8 billion people on planet earth. And of those who do catch a glimpse of me in the digital world, perhaps .0001% of them take notice. Even fewer care to engage. By some magical selection process, I continue to stumble upon rare gems of the human species, and have my own preciousness reflected back to me in mutual regard.
I can honestly say I am deeply grateful to have met and learned something of the lives of this small percentage of our planet's population, you among them, and many others who are writers. And I take nourishment and joy from hearing their stories.
I've been a lone wolf my whole life, keeping to myself, not asking for help, and not being particularly generous with offering it either. This online game has given me a chance to feel like I actually belong to the human community, that I can count myself as a part of a whole, rather than an isolated misfit who just doesn't deserve a place around the campfire sharing stories.
Who knows, I might change my opinion or my mind at some point, but for now, I am absolutely delighted with the discovery I'm making. That sharing myself quite freely does not disturb the sanctuary of my inner life. In fact, just the opposite. As I reach out, something even bigger grows inside. And that something is being given lawful protection in the process.
It is as though I am a tree by nature that has been afraid that by putting out leaves I would endanger my roots. But sending out visible branches only drives the roots deeper, making them more stable, more private, more unknowable. The more I share, the greater the reservoir of all that can never be told about me becomes.
Still, I resonate with and respect your point of view on this. I think there is a place for the men with no camera, people with no diary, no social media account, and not an ounce of compulsion to record, review or inventory the passing of their lives. Just living and sharing the example of their enoughness as they go. We need such people.
For now, I've set that form of identity aside. I'm personally running an experiment to learn the difference between idiot exposure and authentic human sharing. So far, I have been unable to learn that difference by withholding.
I loved the piece and I have a strong personal connection to the theme. I’m rather repelled by much of the online solipsistic / narcissistic writing and I’m a great believer in the show rather than tell style of writing.