[2021-03-11] What Jenesis has taught me

A little more than 10 years ago, I wrote a post about what I had learned from publishing my first blog, Café Jen, which focused on success at work.

Among the lessons I took from my first experience in blogging were these:
  • Blogging creates paths for communication that might not otherwise be open. I stayed in touch with many colleagues by sending out a weekly post and receiving their feedback from time to time. By responding to all comments, I created an opportunity for reciprocal communication.
  • Generosity generates its own rewards. The biggest reward was knowing that I was making a difference, which readers told me via comments, emails and face-to-face interaction.
  • Patience and perseverance are key. Whatever your art, I said, believe in it and keep putting it out there. Your impact will be greater than you realize, I added, but it may take time before others really take notice.
  • Sharing our writing helps others to feel closer to us. Café Jen readers felt more connected to me because I had shared my ideas, feelings and opinions. One young colleague said that my posts gave him a window into the thoughts and preoccupations of a senior manager, perspectives that he would not otherwise be privy to.
Reading that post todaycoincidentally after having chatted with a young woman who had been a student in my branch at the time I launched Café Jen and with whom I have remained in contact in large part because of my blogmade me reflect on what I've learned from my second blog. The focus of Jenesis is broader than Café Jen, not just ovarian cancer but also success in life.

The lessons I have taken from my second experience in blogging are many and include these:
  • Stories put a human face on cancer. We see the statistics on the disease. We may hear that a colleague or a friend has been diagnosed. But we often never learn the outcome, especially if we're coworkers and acquaintances, who are not always kept apprised of developments. My story, in particular, has put a face on ovarian cancer, dubbed the silent killer because the disease's symptoms are often found only in the later stages and, in my view, because so few people know about the illness.
  • Blogging supports ongoing communication with loved ones, friends and colleagues. Many people have told me that they feel connected with me and that they can hear my voice coming through my written words. And because I respond to all comments, it's easy to stay in touch.
  • Vulnerability fosters openness. The more I share, the more others reciprocate with their own stories of having overcome cancer, or supported a loved one who faced the illness, or simply dealt with a comparable challenge. For example, when I shared the story of losing my brother, I received in return several touching stories of grief and love lost. I've learned so much from others.
  • A blog is an antidote to loneliness. I've often had friends reach out to me after having read one or more of my posts. In some cases, they had the courage to approach me because they could see that I was generally coping well with the illness and treatment. They didn't have to fear that they would be intruding or reminding me of the tough battle ahead. I've been contacted by people who knew me well, people who knew me just a little, and people who had never met me before but were inspired by my story. I have never felt alone in my battle.
  • Writing facilitates understanding. It's been said that if you want to truly understand something, write about it. Many times, I've realized that I didn't completely grasp a concept quickly mentioned by a healthcare professional. To explain it to Jenesis readers, I needed to do further research using credible sources. In the process, I learned more.
  • Daily posts create a record that would not otherwise be captured. Writing a post every day is hardeven harder than writing a daily journal entry, which can be rough, incomplete and unpolished. Many times in my life, journal entries have begun with an apology to myself for writing so infrequently. Without the public commitment to writing every day, I would have left many experiences undocumented and forgotten many details. I would have quickly forgotten the highs and lows of going through cancer and would not have paid the same attention to what I was feeling and thinking.
  • Blog posts inform everyone in one fell swoop. I don't need to repeat updates on my health to multiple people. Everyone gets the same details at the same time.
  • We are not defined by one thing. With Jenesis, I have taken the opportunity to write about much more than cancer. I've shared not only what I've learned in the last seven months, but also what I've discovered over my entire life.
  • It's OK to not be OK. While many of my posts are upbeat, some reflect more challenging feelings, such as sadness, fear and impatience. Many readers affirmed that it was OK to feel what I felt. In fact, the negative emotions I acknowledged made my writing all the more authentic.
  • People need good news. Many people are strugglingwith their own illnesses, the effects of the pandemic, self-doubt, overwork, strained relationships. Though my context may differ from that of many readers, the lessons I am learning and applying in my life are relevant to others. I frequently hear, "Thank you for sharing this post. I needed to hear this today."
What has struck me most in publishing Jenesis is how much the world needs storytellers. A good friend shared this quote from environmentalist and professor David. W Orr: "The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds." Another friend shared Toby Mac's statement: "What you are walking through at this moment may just be the story that helps get someone else through." Stories heal not only the storyteller but the listener as well. We all need to tell more stories, whether they are whispered to our children as they fall asleep, shared with a few close friends, or published for all to see. Stories make a difference.