It's Recipes! It's Buddhist Guideposts! It's Stories! No! It's... Just Me

Writing this blog has been a great exercise in watching people watch me. I know that the title, Trailer Park Karma, is both intriguing and confusing to some -- and I swear that ain't on purpose. But beyond that basic seemingly conundrumical (how'd ya like that word?!) starting point, this blog has brought clarity for me on this human trait: We badly crave clarity.

Yes, I know I'm projecting. I'm clear about that. But to paraphrase an old one, just because I'm projecting my insides doesn't mean you ain't lookin' like this, too.

Some folks who read this blog want very badly to pigeonhole it. I get it. Life, especially on the Internet (which any more for most people seems to be right smack in your palm, which is a pretty indispensable part of your body, so I figure you're looking at it most of your waking hours...), is overwhelming. Classifying and categorizing are mind games we play with ourselves to simplify the constant buzz coming at us. We really want to be able to say "That band plays XYZ music, and she's usually in XYZ type movies." Or "That blog's about XYZ."

Some of us are so dependent on sticking life's components in organized boxes that we wind up spending a lot more time and energy being afraid that we haven't categorized things just right. In the end, all of those things that we're frantic about organizing? They're happening anyway. Or not. We're barely even really here.

The sad thing is when we start doing that not only to events and tasks and activities but also to complex, sentient beings. Like people.
 
It's sad because it can't be accomplished. You can try and try. You can spend an entire lifetime of energy on honing in on people, narrowing the field they're in in your mind, trying "to understand" them, often so you can relate one way or another. Then they up and surprise you.
 
Why are we surprised at all when all any human (or other animal) is is a compound, moving experience?

I've been confused by plenty of folks. I've come to the end of my rope with trying to grasp why some of them do what they do. I've hung in there long with some and dissed some early in the knowing. The longer my life goes on, the more readily it dawns on me again and again that I cannot reasonably and sanely box up people.

So, back to this blog and people who read it. I watch the numbers, ya know. Some of you want me to publish more recipes. Some of you want me to publish more meandering thoughts. Some of you want more stories. Some only want my original, personal thoughts, while others want to see guest bloggers. More Buddhism. More trailerpark-ishness. 

It's been amusing and sometimes perplexing to hear people's theories on things like why I moved to The Sticks, why I moved back to Swamp City, why I discuss this or that topic in blogposts, why, why, why, why. It's how we "understand" these complex things called people, by making up stories that somehow bring ease to our foggy notions. Since the stories we create are mostly informed by our own ever-changing internal states, they're mostly just plain, old opinion.

Thing is, I don't dispute anyone's opinions. Well, not publicly anyway. 

Like we've all heard, you can't make everybody happy. Sometimes you can't make anybody happy. Just being yourself, you can do.