Why I Clap Like a Deranged Circus Seal
Oort! Oort! Oort!
No seals were used in the writing of this article. We set them free from the circus. We clapped for them as they swam away.
Some of you do it too. Not all of you do it. That’s okay. You be you.
Me? I clap like a circus seal who drank a pot of dark roast just before the show.
I mean, not if you wrote something mean or ugly. Or something about the latest tech innovation that I absolutely must learn about. Or something political. Or something shallow. I won’t slam you in the comments. I’ll just move on.
But if you wrote something funny or heartfelt or insightful or just good in its own particular way, if you shared something lovely or elegant with us — fifty claps. I’m going to slam my finger down on that clap icon and press it ’til it squeals, “We’re at fifty! We’re at fifty! Stop!”
Why? I’ll give you a few reasons.
1. I’m proud of you.
You wrote a thing, and you put it out there in the world and waited to see what the world says. That takes courage. You created something that didn’t exist before. You created something from your own mind, and you shared it with other people who will read your words and think some thinks or feel some feels. You created something that will impact people one way or another.
I respect the courage that it takes to create anything. I learned early on to judge creators lightly.
I’m proud of you: FIFTY CLAPS.
2. I love you.
This point is slightly different from “I’m proud of you.”
I’m proud of you for having the courage to create.
I love you because you are worthy to be loved. And I’m the man to do it. I’m learning — always slowly learning — to allow myself to love and be loved. But those of you in this community of writers? That’s easy — you are easy to love. I have people here who I rejoice to see them publish. I’m tempted to insert a list of tags. But I won’t. People don’t especially like that and don’t clap for it. Counterproductive. You know who you are.
But beyond my peeps, I have genuine affection for the people here who share their lives with me in their posts. I read your stories, maybe just one of your stories, maybe the first time I’ve encountered you, and I feel such affection for you.
If you make me laugh, I love you.
If you make me cry, I love you.
If you make me think, I love you.
You are human and you are in this world and you are exploring ways to live your life. Your rich human soul is a part of all that is going on. You deserve some pats on the back just for being here and making the effort. You are worthy of love.
I love you: FIFTY CLAPS.
3. Why parse it out?
When I started, I would. I’d parse it out with some degree of evaluation. “Okay, that story deserves 5 claps or 25 claps. I’ll reserve my 50 claps only for those exceptional essays that rock my world.” I get it. I did it.
But at a certain point, I just let that evaluation mentality go. I don’t want to read your work and have to give thought to how much it is worth. I’d rather just be effusive.
I became James Fucking Taylor. I shower the people I love with love. I show them the way I feel. YOU get all the claps. And YOU get all the claps. And YOU get all the claps.
And I mean all the time. Not just your articles. I’m talking about your comments too, especially if you comment on one of my pieces. Dang! You read my article and took the time to make a kind comment? Wow! I’m giving you all the claps.
All the claps all the time. Oort! Oort! Oort! (That’s my circus seal impersonation, in case that was unclear.)
Why parse it out? FIFTY CLAPS.
4. In prais of Dais.
My friend Daisy Bergmann-Reid taught me this behavior. She modeled the behavior for me, and I completely bought into it. She claps like she has an endless supply of claps.
She would read one of my articles, and she’d shower me with claps. I’d read one of her articles and make a comment, and she’d slap that comment with all the claps. We formed a friendship here, and we sometimes drill down 5 or 10 or 15 comments back and forth. We stick 50 claps on all those comments as we go. I love her. She is my friend.
It’s kind of funny to look at my stats and see times when several people followed our exchanges to the end. That’s cool. You are welcome to join us. Slap a clap on there now and then.
I think Daisy has gotten a bit of push back on some of her edgy articles and her photos of herself. I don’t care. I think she’s lovely inside and out. She expands my heart and my mind with her brilliance. She burns a hole in my brain.
And she is effusive in her encouragement. She showed me how it is done.
In prais of Dais: FIFTY CLAPS.
Again, you be you. You clap the way you want. If it is your way, then save those massive claps for the articles that resonate deeply with you.
I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just saying what I do.
This is me.
I’m proud of you. I love you.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
