For days I could not write. I mean I can always write but during the past few months, the writing was not coming from deep inside – it wasn’t flowing except in short spurts. Writing to me is an urge, a need , a compulsion – if it is dulled then my life seems lacklustre. I may not ever become anyone great by writing – perhaps my words will be as ephemeral as a puff of smoke but even then I cannot let go. So one day after my interminable whining and postponement of the ‘WRITING OF THE BOOK’ – yes the capitals were intentional, my brother told me I had to stop.
I have been writing since I was 9 – that was the time I read my first book and began thinking in print. To write a book had been my earliest dream and my longest lasting yet and therefore my brother rightly pointed out that there was no excuse whatsoever for my behaviour. I wanted to write, I could write – so what on earth was stopping me?
He then handed me a notepad and a pen and told me to lock myself in my room upstairs and just write whatever came into my head. I wasn’t to look at my laptop. I wasn’t to listen to music. I was definitely not supposed to look at my Blackberry to which my family fervently believes I am completely addicted. I acquiesced meekly enough considering he’s my younger brother. I sat on my bed propped against the pillows and took out my favourite pen. I was so used to typing that my handwriting looked completely unlike the beautiful script I used to possess. Within moments I was lost in writing. The physical aspect of putting down words on a paper while feeling the effort in my fingers and the tangible aspect of turning yet another filled sheet to encounter more opportunity in the next page was very enjoyable. My hand moved, the pen moved, words began filling the blank lines like magic.
What I wrote was not important – certainly it is nothing I would put up to read but the good thing was that it didn’t matter. It started the flow. I then went back to my laptop and typed out a 2000 word story effortlessly. I have gone back to writing on paper when I feel the need to think a bit clearly and then when I transpose those words on to the screen, the style changes and the story or article or essay becomes more polished and definitely more readable.
The beautiful part of being able to let go like this is that you automatically become that much lighter. It is with a huge sense of relief that I walk around now. To have something in you that wants to be freed is an unsettling feeling but once it is let out and you do what only you know how to do, it is sheer delight. Sometimes it takes years to learn that a simple piece of paper and a pen and silence is what you needed all along. And yet to learn a valuable lesson, however late is a blessing in itself.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
One moment in time...
“Give me one moment in time, when I am racing with destiny ...”
I love that line. It captures the hunger to be all that you can be – the desire to go all the way, to feel like you are at least for that one moment, fulfilling your purpose of existence. I am yet to feel that way. I have this overwhelming need to be whatever I can be but somewhere somehow I hold myself back from immersing myself in the pursuit of that dream.
I can make any number of excuses. The kids. My husband. The house. A million routine chores that leave me deadened to inspiration. Lack of exposure. I have not led an interesting life, what could I possibly have to write that anyone would want to read? But then that’s not the point. I want to write despite all that is holding me back. My worst enemy never came from outside. Its always been myself. Everyone I know tells me I can write. Everyone I respect tells me I waste my potential by not writing that longed-for book. Why do I appear to self-sabotage myself each time I attempt to pen down the words then? I don’t know.
People have given me various ideas. Many friends tell me I have to write for a certain amount of time everyday regardless of mood or creative inspiration. Others tell me I have read too many good books and beat myself up unnecessarily for not being perfect. Yet others like my husband tell me I am merely making excuses and there was absolutely no reason I couldn’t write a book in three months. I listen and feel frustrated. I imagine that there’s this wall around me that I cannot get through. I feel choked with the bitter bile of failure before even an attempt at success. Why? Again, I don’t know.
My brother has a theory. He says there is something painful inside me that if I do not write about, I will not get over the block. To avoid writing about it, I stop myself from writing at all is what he believes. His other point was that it did not matter if my story wasn’t new or appeared to be boring or uninteresting since it was not the story as much as how I told it that would make a difference. He might be right. Some things you cannot write about and yet if you don’t you aren’t being true to yourself at all. Perhaps I have kept a part of me locked up that needs to be let out.
Whatever be the reason, I long for that one moment in time when I am more than I ever thought I could be...
I love that line. It captures the hunger to be all that you can be – the desire to go all the way, to feel like you are at least for that one moment, fulfilling your purpose of existence. I am yet to feel that way. I have this overwhelming need to be whatever I can be but somewhere somehow I hold myself back from immersing myself in the pursuit of that dream.
I can make any number of excuses. The kids. My husband. The house. A million routine chores that leave me deadened to inspiration. Lack of exposure. I have not led an interesting life, what could I possibly have to write that anyone would want to read? But then that’s not the point. I want to write despite all that is holding me back. My worst enemy never came from outside. Its always been myself. Everyone I know tells me I can write. Everyone I respect tells me I waste my potential by not writing that longed-for book. Why do I appear to self-sabotage myself each time I attempt to pen down the words then? I don’t know.
People have given me various ideas. Many friends tell me I have to write for a certain amount of time everyday regardless of mood or creative inspiration. Others tell me I have read too many good books and beat myself up unnecessarily for not being perfect. Yet others like my husband tell me I am merely making excuses and there was absolutely no reason I couldn’t write a book in three months. I listen and feel frustrated. I imagine that there’s this wall around me that I cannot get through. I feel choked with the bitter bile of failure before even an attempt at success. Why? Again, I don’t know.
My brother has a theory. He says there is something painful inside me that if I do not write about, I will not get over the block. To avoid writing about it, I stop myself from writing at all is what he believes. His other point was that it did not matter if my story wasn’t new or appeared to be boring or uninteresting since it was not the story as much as how I told it that would make a difference. He might be right. Some things you cannot write about and yet if you don’t you aren’t being true to yourself at all. Perhaps I have kept a part of me locked up that needs to be let out.
Whatever be the reason, I long for that one moment in time when I am more than I ever thought I could be...
Monday, February 13, 2012
Unconditional.
Why do I feel like writing about acceptance today? Its not a new train of thought and the idea of the importance of acceptance is not one that grew on me overnight but currently it is swirling about in my mind and if I do not set it down, it will only distract me from the rest of my work.
Acceptance must be unconditional for it to be effective. It sounds too much like a declaration but then in a way it is one. I don’t believe that you can accept only parts of a person or a situation. I know that there are people who routinely do so but then they miss the picture and focus only on little things. If you cannot see the wood for the trees, you miss the beauty of the forest entirely.
Every person is a mix of desirable and undesirable characteristics. The nature of the desirability is purely subjective. I won’t like a particular trait in anyone and yet there are others who may find that very trait endearing or at least, attractive. If the balance is tilted towards more characteristics that I do not like, I do not accept the entire person. I may tolerate them but there will be nothing more than a veneer of politeness in my interactions with them. Others see me in the same way too I am sure.
If, however I love someone be it in any capacity – either friend or spouse or child, then my acceptance is total. It does not matter that there are traits I dislike or find it difficult to tolerate because the person involved has other traits that I cherish and it is in the balance of different characteristics that the beauty of their character is revealed. I do not tarnish this beauty with a judgemental view. It is my strong belief that no one can judge someone they are close to truly because one is never free from the taint of perceptions coloured by wishes rather than facts. Objectivity can arise only from a distance and if judge we must, then it can only be related to persons or situations with which we have no direct engagement.
Unconditional acceptance enriches both the giver and the receiver. The idea that one does not need to be perfect to merit love and acceptance is a great liberator – the idea that one can love someone else warts and all gives you the power to transcend the ordinary and reach a completely different level of feeling for your loved one. But to even comprehend that, you must leave all thoughts of yourself or your ego behind – in the deepest kind of love, there is no place for ego and it is that alone that comes in the way of total acceptance.
Have you experienced the love of a child? One cannot get anything more unconditional than that – the love that a child shows his or her mother is not based on anything at all – not how good the mother looks, whether she is perfectly happy always or whether she is capable of being the best mother – a child is a fount for forgiveness and an unending source of love that lifts you up. If you can learn to love and accept like that, you become truly blessed.
In the case of situations, there are many times when we are faced with instances when it is impossible to see the good in something traumatic but it will still be there. To reject something as painful and to attempt to delete it completely will give it the power to endure in your mind. But if you accept the situation as a whole and believe that you can yet learn something from it – that there is a gift in it somewhere inside the pain. Accept it in totality and you are empowered. Think fractionally and it will break you...
Acceptance must be unconditional for it to be effective. It sounds too much like a declaration but then in a way it is one. I don’t believe that you can accept only parts of a person or a situation. I know that there are people who routinely do so but then they miss the picture and focus only on little things. If you cannot see the wood for the trees, you miss the beauty of the forest entirely.
Every person is a mix of desirable and undesirable characteristics. The nature of the desirability is purely subjective. I won’t like a particular trait in anyone and yet there are others who may find that very trait endearing or at least, attractive. If the balance is tilted towards more characteristics that I do not like, I do not accept the entire person. I may tolerate them but there will be nothing more than a veneer of politeness in my interactions with them. Others see me in the same way too I am sure.
If, however I love someone be it in any capacity – either friend or spouse or child, then my acceptance is total. It does not matter that there are traits I dislike or find it difficult to tolerate because the person involved has other traits that I cherish and it is in the balance of different characteristics that the beauty of their character is revealed. I do not tarnish this beauty with a judgemental view. It is my strong belief that no one can judge someone they are close to truly because one is never free from the taint of perceptions coloured by wishes rather than facts. Objectivity can arise only from a distance and if judge we must, then it can only be related to persons or situations with which we have no direct engagement.
Unconditional acceptance enriches both the giver and the receiver. The idea that one does not need to be perfect to merit love and acceptance is a great liberator – the idea that one can love someone else warts and all gives you the power to transcend the ordinary and reach a completely different level of feeling for your loved one. But to even comprehend that, you must leave all thoughts of yourself or your ego behind – in the deepest kind of love, there is no place for ego and it is that alone that comes in the way of total acceptance.
Have you experienced the love of a child? One cannot get anything more unconditional than that – the love that a child shows his or her mother is not based on anything at all – not how good the mother looks, whether she is perfectly happy always or whether she is capable of being the best mother – a child is a fount for forgiveness and an unending source of love that lifts you up. If you can learn to love and accept like that, you become truly blessed.
In the case of situations, there are many times when we are faced with instances when it is impossible to see the good in something traumatic but it will still be there. To reject something as painful and to attempt to delete it completely will give it the power to endure in your mind. But if you accept the situation as a whole and believe that you can yet learn something from it – that there is a gift in it somewhere inside the pain. Accept it in totality and you are empowered. Think fractionally and it will break you...
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