Friday, January 17, 2014

Of Writing





Just when I think I got something to write about for my first entry this new year, I lose it the moment I open a blank document. I stare at the white screen for a while, type a few words. But it’s no good. The ideas do not play out for me, and so I close the laptop, deciding to wait for the moment when the urge to write comes naturally.

I feel like I have lost much of the enthusiasm that got me "writing" again around the time I left my job last year to focus all my energy on being a mom. Ok, let’s add to that being a wife as well. Hehe! Many times – in the shower, in the car, at waiting areas, or in the grocery – ideas come to me. Phrases, sentences form in my mind. But my lazy self gets the better of me each time I think of the task of gathering my thoughts together, connecting them, and making sense of them to come up with a story.

Maybe I’m scared to face the new year because an even bigger decision than when I went on leave from work needs to be made in the not so distant future. I have to decide if I am going to report back at work. That major decision that's hanging in my head is kind of stifling me to a point of non-action. It compels me to reflect, to assess my needs and wants, to do an introspection. And that, my friends, is very difficult to do. It’s hard to go deeper into one’s heart and confront one’s own fears knowing especially that you live not for yourself alone.

What’s good about writing one’s own thoughts, feelings, aspirations, and what-nots, is that your medium (be it paper or the computer screen) becomes like a sounding board, a counsellor that only listens. It gives you a space to talk, to create, and it allows you to make amends, take back your words, and tell them again in better ways.

I get to know myself better when I write. I love to write, but I’m scared to write because it also brings to the fore my insecurities about this craft. I can not write as often as I want to. There has to be something that inspires me to do so. I am no writer, trust me. To non-writers, my writing may be perceived as good. But I am fully aware that to those who are really in the business of writing, this and my other posts are all “sh**ty”. Yeah, that’s my stark reality. But I’m cool with that because I am not really doing it for business. And this blog works for me. It gets me inspired to write. And since I only write about personal stuff, I need to “live” my life, to get out there and experience "life" so I would have stories to share.

I love the written word. I feel excited to use words I encounter reading the paper, magazines, and books. I like using words that only get to be read because they’re so archaic or technical that you will rarely hear them used in conversations, say in movies. I loved how one of my ex-supervisors (an expat) used words like “perplex” and swears when he was annoyed, “Bloody”. I like to think that words are my friends. They offer me relief, they give me company, they let me be me.

Thanks, my friend, for reading me. You could never imagine how much that means to me. I wish you all the best this year, and courage and faith to face the challenges that it may bring. A happy and prosperous 2014 to you and yours!

***



Post a Comment