I’m sitting at my computer (there’s a shock, right?) about to write a post in an online workshop I’m taking.  Part of the point of the workshop is to build a habit to show up every day and post something.  Whatever we want.  Writing, video, audio, artwork. Anything.

I’ve already posted my first day.  And now I notice something I didn’t notice before.

We’re supposed to put all our entries in one big post called [YourName] – Dailies.

I didn’t do that on Day 1.  I just created a post with a headline, like I usually do inside these workshops.  This one’s different for some reason.  The course creators actually want us to combine all our entries in one place.

They probably have a good reason for this.  Like – it’s easier to see all our work in one place.  It’s easier to keep track of it.  People who want to follow us can just look up our name.  Sure.  I guess I get it.

But I hate it.  Immediately I can think of 3 reasons why this isn’t a good idea.

1. That one post will get super-long. Once it gets too big, people won’t want to engage.  It will feel too overwhelming.
2. I will have a hard time knowing how many days I posted or what day I’m even on. Because I’ll have to dig through the entire post to find the new topics.  It’s not like you can create a sub-category or anything to group the entries and responses.
3. I will likely want to explore certain topics for a few days or even a week, and then change the topic. People who might engage on that topic won’t because there’s no headline that speaks to that topic.

I hate it.

So, I decide to break the rules.  After all, I inadvertently broke the rules on Day 1 by posting something with this headline: “A Blank Piece of Paper – oh the pressure!”  On Day 2, I create a new topic and start the headline with my name as instructed.  And then, instead of typing “- Dailies”, I type “I hate following the rules”.  And then my post is about how I feel about being told what to do on this page and how I probably won’t do what they say.  I may write in the same post for a day, a week, or until a topic is exhausted.  I haven’t decided.

Now, that’s cool and all.  But what’s really interesting is what happens next.  People respond with all kinds of perspectives.  They run the gamut, like:

1. Good for you! I’ve always been a rule-breaker, so I find it amazing that you’re even agonizing over breaking the rules.  I just do it.
2. I’m a rule follower.  I can’t imagine doing this.
3. Maybe you don’t really understand the rules. Let me explain them to you more clearly.
4. I guess you don’t understand how these workshops work. Get with the program.

All of the above is my paraphrase of what they said.  Everyone was much kinder than this.

As I read and interacted with the people who wrote these comments, it struck me yet again how different our perspectives are.  How much we interpret what others write or say, even as they attempt to be as clear as possible, through our own filter.  Which means that what we get from something may not be at all what they intended, meant, or sometimes even said.  How others respond says more about them than it does about us.  At least most of the time.

What was also interesting was my emotional reaction as I read the comments.  To some, I thought, “Right on!  I love this.  I’m looking forward to interacting with them in this workshop.”  To others, it was, “I don’t get where they’re coming from, but it’s interesting to explore.”

Then there were the ones where I felt shame and had to deal with it.  I felt less-than.  Wishing I could take back my words.  It took a few minutes to breathe that in and process it so I could respond, never mind write another post.

I had to do some work myself to process the feelings that came up when people responded in challenging ways.  Especially where shame was involved.

And I thought all I was doing was writing a simple post about the struggle between rule-following and rule-breaking.  Trying to decide how I’d respond.  I didn’t expect this at all.

Maybe I gave voice to things others were feeling and didn’t know how or have the courage to say.  Maybe I triggered the desire for safety, which often manifests itself in conformity.  I don’t know.  But I’m curious to see what happens as the workshop progresses.  How I show up.  How they show up.  How we grow in our ability to see others’ perspectives before they even have to say it.

Do you ever wish you could ask the question that everyone is thinking and no one has the guts to ask?  Or maybe you’ve done that.  Brought up that topic that’s on everyone’s mind.  I’d love to hear what you have to say in the comments.