Navel-Gazing Has Become My Habit
I worry it’ll become an addiction.
I woke up again worrying about why nobody liked what I had to offer, worrying it could be me and not them, wondering what there was about me that made me think I was pretty special when nobody else seemed to see it, and after much thought — all about me — I finally had to laugh. I was doing that very thing I’ve warned writers against so many, many, many times: I was navel-gazing.
Seriously. And because I was really getting into it — in the middle of the night when nothing was stopping me — I went looking for the definition of ‘navel-gazing’; hoping, I suppose, that the dictionaries would vindicate me and let me get back to sleep.
Well, the dictionaries did what dictionaries do — just the facts, ma’am, the fewer words the better. From Merriam-Webster:
But then they had to add synonyms. (You’ll notice a definite pattern.)
(About those antonyms: ‘self-abandonment’ and ‘self-forgetfulness’ rarely ever happen. Ignore them. ‘Selflessness’ and ‘unselfishness’, on the other hand, are seen only in fictional characters.)
