The self in writing

Consider this definition of autoethnography: Autoethnography is a form or method of social research that explores the researcher's personal experience and connects this autobiographical story to wider cultural, political, and social meanings and understandings.

We write here in web journals exploring our own minds, actions and behaviours. This allows other people to read our words on a day to day basis and we are, of course, at risk of becoming the leading lady (or man) in a soap opera of our own creation.

What makes the writing valid is not just authenticity (assuming we shoot for telling 'the truth') but some sort of overall 'truth' - some sort of consideration of other people.

Quite naturally, it seems, the individual writer sitting at her kitchen table in Toronto, or at his desk in Chicago or under a gum tree next to a billabong in Australia sets up an account and begins to write about his or her life, his or her thoughts and impressions. In no time, someone comments; someone links one journal to another and in a matter of weeks (or less), the individual is part of a wider community of like-minded people.

Over time, we probably all ask the same questions: 'Why am I writing here?' 'Am I writing here now for me or them? 'Am I writing here still to attain some validation for my thoughts from them? And, if they don't validate my thoughts, what then?'

Are these our stories or merely data for stories? Collectively, are we merely a group of deviants or a group of people whose inner lives are rich; whose alter egos demand a voice; whose inner desires to live in a way that seems authentic to them (but deviant to most of the community) have driven them to find a voice.

It occurred to me this past week that the people connected with a certain blog were the most astounding characters for a story. Yet, I only felt that when I actually knew the back story of their lives and even then, I was using my imagination to fill in what I didn't still know.These glimpses of our lives are really just a small part of the story of our lives and to the casual observer we must seem deviant indeed. In fact, we are good people going about living our lives lawfully, ethically; taking care of our families, our loved ones and helping little old ladies across the street.

In this era, social networking has encouraged an enormous amount of emphasis on the self, as opposed to people in a collective way. Yet, I'd argue that amongst all this introspection and outpouring of the ego there remains an effort to connect with others. It reminds me of the early days of the radio when radio enthusiasts sat in their garages and waited in the still of the night to hook up with someone, anyone out there in the void.

Our desire to connect with the other is vast and refuses to be quieted. In my writings here, there is a two edged ambition: the opportunity to express my 'self' in a way I cannot do in real life hardly at all and a desire to connect with like minded souls. The desire to connect is less to do with self validation as it is to gain sustenance from those folk who can offer me energy. Reading a submissive woman's words is always interesting but I confess I long for the dominant man's introspection. I long to read words quite unlike my own; the polar opposite, in fact. I seek to understand and thus I write and read.