With two days left in the year (and in #reverb10) I'll tell you the truth.

The more rich and nuanced my life becomes, the less I feel the urge to document it. Check that against what Kevin Kelly says about the next 5,000 days of the web: 

I want both: a rich, nuanced life and total personalization. As a result, I've spent much of this year wondering about how much time to spend, how much self to share, on the web going forward. Not just how much. But how well-rounded a story to share. How well-rounded to help my clients be on the web. How well-rounded to help you be (assuming you're ready to come along for the journey).

It's an open-ended question, one that I explored on Teresa's blog. Teresa, a community manager for Radian 6 (a social media monitoring company), asks questions about how much she wants to share online (and how personal she wants it to be).

This is my (500 word) response to her question. If you have time, take some to read her post and the comments. I excerpt mine, lightly edited, for you here. 

Teresa, this comment is exploratory in nature as its a topic I'm currently wondering on myself. So please, take it with that in mind. 

I've been wondering about the nature of "sharing our stories" online for years. Let's wonder together for a few.

At the beginning of your post you say you're not going to be in the business of sharing your story online anymore. I'm going to contend that unless you stop creating content altogether you're going to continue crafting your story online. Whether it's in 140-character updates or 3,000-word blog posts, through commenting on other people's blogs or carefully choosing the photos you post to Flickr (and editing/deleting some), you're crafting the way in which you're perceived in the world.

Which takes me to the questions I'm asking right now. How much of our story (as in how well-rounded a story, not how much information about ourselves) do we want the world to see? How vulnerable are we willing to be?

Am I ok with you knowing that today my day has (hypothetically) been roughly 70% happy, 10% melancholy, 10% peeved and 10% reflective? Would you want to know that? (In addition to any other information I share about myself, that is?)

Much of what we do on the social web is shape our stories to show only that first 70%. We put out into the world what we want to get back. And that makes sense to me! 

Why would we re-post, for instance, an angry screed against us? What good would putting anger into the world do? And yet, only posting what makes us look/feel/seem good is not the full story. It's the shined up, edited, ready for public consumption story. It's the 70% that matters - let's just pretend the 30% areas for growth aren't there.

Here's the other side of the coin - that we consider sharing the whole-person aspects. Not just the pom pom cheerleading bits, but the parts that scare us about ourselves. The parts we're ashamed of. The parts we're working with but that are currently in process.

I'm not sure how to do that yet, but these are the questions I'm asking of myself right now.

What I do believe is this: criticism is an opportunity for growth. There are people I consider peers in the world of blogging that would disagree (though likely not publicly criticize me) about that. Criticism of any kind allows us to turn a critical eye on ourselves and see what's up.

Criticism is different to me than just plain negativity (that has its lessons, too) - but peering into, reading, illuminating and metabolizing even the most fanatically angry diatribe has something to teach us. 

Shining a bit of light on what the author is getting at, whether in a comment or a post, whether we choose to respond directly or not, can tell us something about ourselves.

That something is why I show up on the web. That something is the practice.

That something is the kernel for growth beyond story.

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Dusti Arab asked if I'd comment on whether blog comments should be turned on or left off. It's a topic being debated (has it ever stopped being debated?).  Dusti's piece includes my response, the 4-word comment policy.

Tammy Strobel at Rowdy Kittens hosted a rousing debate about comments on before that. My (again 500 word) comment will give you some insight on where I currently stand regarding comments.

Further on that, Ev Bogue's piece explores the future of humanity and cultivating our digital selves. Consider this my seconding his imperative that you read What Technology Wants as soon as you get a few free hours.

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To repeat, the medium is evolving and I have plans in store for 2011 regarding storytelling (in a richer, more nuanced way) on the web. In short, it's evolving and I plan to be part of that evolution.

I'm heading to NYC in January to work with a team I believe will help all of us do just that.

I invite your thoughts here, on Twitter or directly. (Even better, blog your thoughts and link back to this post. In that way, we'll evolve the conversation together.)