I started a new job in August. Instead of a quick 3-minute commute, I have a longer drive, typically on the freeway. And, periodically, there are accidents or stalled cars or any number of random problems at the side of the road which cause slow downs.

As I pump the pedals, I feel that urge myself … the urge to glance over and check out what’s at the side of the road. It’s called rubber-necking and the fallout impacts everyone on the road, whether they look or not. The temptation is always to look … to check out what happened or see for yourself what makes this particular situation fascinating enough to slow down so many busy commuters.

In yoga class the other night, we were reminded to keep our eyes focused on our own mat — that glancing around and comparing our pose to that of our neighbors didn’t serve us. It wouldn’t make our poses any better, and it would distract us from our own work.

This gentle reminder made me think, as I am want to do, about how that applied off the mat. I found myself wondering why we spend so much time rubber-necking, looking at others and comparing our poses — or lives — to theirs. Seeking to find out what’s going on at the side of the road. What is it we hope to find? What is it we hope to gain?

I once took a yoga class where there were only two of us. Afterward, our teacher Marty mentioned how reluctant he was to lead a class with only two students … how in past experience such a session led to competition. I was stunned. It never occurred to me to compare what we were doing. The time I spend on my mat is about me, my work, my mindfulness, my focus and my spiritual and physical growth. Why would I use that hour to compete with someone else?

But, if I’m truly honest, I do it elsewhere. Most of us have areas where we’re competitive. Where we want applause or recognition or likes and comments or the feeling that we’re superior or special.  Perhaps, deep inside, we are all a little bit like Sally Field in her notable 1984 Oscar speech when she declared: “You like me. You really like me.” We too want to be liked. Noticed. Valued. Sought After. Appreciated. Desired and Admired.

Take Social Media for example. We post something on Facebook … why do we do that? We type something from the privacy of our own computers or phones or tablets for the world to see, like and comment on. We say something because it pops in our mind and we want to share it. And … to be noticed. We place a photo or a saying or a link on our “Home Page” so it is seen by others. And depending how many friends you have, it can be seen by a helluva lot of people.

Then, in so many cases, we sit back and wait for comments and likes and hearts and emojis to pop up.

Question: Once you’ve posted whatever it is you want to say, do you look at those comments, likes, hearts and emojis? How often do you check back? Do you wonder how many people liked your post? How many new followers discovered what you had to say?

Are you curious why some people liked it or commented on it, while others didn’t?

Do you look at posts by others and see all those likes, comments etc. and wonder why they attracted all those “friends” while your post didn’t?

That brings me back to why we post on Facebook or Instagram or Twitter to begin with. Is it simply to share a quick quip or photo with friends and family far and wide, or are we actively seeking to connect and communicate across the wires? Are we looking for love — or likes — to support our often lonely selves? And does this spur feelings of competition and isolation when our words, thoughts, ideas and photos don’t receive that sense of value from those in the virtual word who we call “friends” and “followers”?

The flowers in a garden — the roses on a large rose bush — do not look at each other and compare their blooms.

The stars in the heavens do not gaze at each other and say … hey, she’s shining brighter than me!

So why, in a world where a “cursor” that flashes annoyingly on a white screen, do we feel the need to seek likes and hearts on a “social” media site?

I’m guilty. I have posted blogs and quips and checked back to see my stats. I have a certain number of followers of The Corner. And there are times that I wonder why I don’t have more — why so-and-so doesn’t follow me or comment or like my witty repartee. Why does so-and-so comment on another post and not mine? Why don’t my stats go up, even though I have all these so-called blog followers?

It’s not pretty. But I’m being honest here. It’s something I’ve done. And I don’t like it.

So this year, I’ve refocused my efforts to simply to Bloom where I’m planted. To post my thoughts, quips, blogs, photos and not look back. To not scroll through other social media posts and wonder why I don’t have the Friends or Likes that another person has. Comparing myself to the other Rose out there, doesn’t make me Bloom brighter, bigger or better. No, just the opposite. It usually makes me feel inadequate, uninteresting, and dull.

Mary, Mary quite contrary … how does your garden grow? With Silver Bells and Cockle Shells and Pretty Maids all in a row. – Mother Goose

Nowhere in that nursery rhyme is it suggested that the Silver Bells, Cockle Shells and Pretty Maids are in competition. Nowhere does it indicate one is prettier than the others or that Mary has any desire for that to be the case.

There’s freedom and joy when I simply Bloom where I’m planted and find satisfaction in what I’ve offered — letting go of the rest. When I post something — a blog or a status update or a photo — it’s simply something I want to share. It’s something I want to say or offer for others to take or leave. So what if only a few people discover or read it. I’ve said it. I’ve written it. I’ve put myself and my ideas out there.

Of course, maybe it’s just me who has longings for approval, comments, friends/followers and likes. Maybe it’s simply my own insecurity.  But, I’m discovering at 50+ that I really truly don’t care if I’m the biggest, boldest bloom in the garden. I just want to Bloom.

I’ve figured out how to do this on my yoga mat. Guess that’s why I selected the word Bloom for 2019. I need to reclaim focus on my own path, words and growth and stop glancing around at others.

If the drivers on the freeway figured that out, I could get to where I’m going a lot faster.

                                                                                                – Jenni