A Few Words On Lurking

I’m a lurker.

I don’t know why I am, exactly, although I have a strong suspicion that my lurking behavior is indicative of a fundamental cowardice in my nature. Back in my astrological study days, I would have said it was the dark part of my Libra-ness; I might still say that. I might not.

Lurking is safety and comfort, but it’s also stagnation and fear. Lurking lets me listen in on the conversation without having to put myself out there and on record as being part of the conversation.

I lurk everywhere, in places personal and professional. I read fora, listservs, blogs–I rarely comment, and when I do, I feel odd because no one knows me, but I feel as though I know everyone.

There may have been a time when I felt that lurking was wise, that by so doing I was saving myself for the “right time,” as though I had a limited number of words to share. How ridiculous.

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