I had been getting alot of feedback from friends, random articles and my own subconscious that I gotta start a writing habit. And yea there’s ideas in my head (right i mean that’s generally the reason why people think about writing yea?) but I’m soooo out of touch with writing that the very notion of it terrifies me somehow. I suppose that’s what you call a writer’s block. Heeh.
So very glad to see the writing challenge 101. Just at the right time too, getting off my arse metaphorically and taking a pause from all that gaming and start penning thoughts. Thanks for having such an great starting topic to the first day. It’s cool. 20 minutes of random thoughts, I think I can do that.
Strangely, I never had trouble writing when I was a kid, or as a teen. It was only when I started working that somehow writing became a functional thing. You write reports, or remarks and that kinda snuff out the magic of writing, the words that should soooo come from the heart and the soul and somehow communicate and touch something invisible but tangible. So over the course of report writings, structural, functional organisation of words, I sorta lost that, writing for myself and for my heart. Today though feels different, like I’m somehow back here again and feeling quite happy to let my fingers loose over the keyboards. (I’m a typing kinda of girl, cos it’s sure as hell neater…I don’t write, I scribble.)
Ah and that was 5 minutes.
I quit my job sometimes back and gradually my lost memories came back to me. It had been 2 plus years and part of myself is knitting back? It’s like the lost memories came back as flashbacks and it dawned on me with rude shock and fear, experiences I had growing up. I had been blocking them out of my mind and consciousness that when I first recall them, I had trouble believing my own sanity. But remembering them was such a relief because I finally understand the what, why and how of my being. I felt reconnected to a deeper part of myself. There’s really not much way to make sense of the traumas I had but I suppose the Zen interpretation is kinder, they were just memories of events that happened. Past. Yet remembering them unmade me, broke my identity into pieces, like the person I thought I was and the story I made of myself, who I was, my life, I could no longer see them the same way. Somehow getting in touch with my traumas made me realised how much of my behaviour was shaped by them, like a knee jerk reaction. So recalling the traumas in my adulthood unmade me as a person, and having to go through the grieving and crying and wailing and getting tired of them, it became that I gotta learn how to know myself again, like relearn how to be, how to interact with people, letting go and being at ease with new dynamics within myself.
The strange part is I no longer could interact with people as I used to. I could, if I try, but it’s tiring. It’s like having to put a mask back on when you realised what a relief it is to take it off. And how heavy the mask felt.
So I observed new emotions arising in me, guiding me to interact with people without the mask on. It takes awhile to get used to, I’m still getting used to it.
Ho… that’s was actually 9 minutes.
And surprising, I fell in love. Or rather love found me. Oh I dunno, or someone with a key just turned up, out of the blue, unexpectedly. Okay…but I don’t know how to deal with it.
It feels like everything inside myself is being opened. Everything. And I can’t hide, because there’s no where to hide. So I watch my own emotions tumbling and doing cartwheels within me, fear, anxiety, shame, panic, love, desire, happiness and helplessness; because I can’t bring my defences back (too tiring to hold on to them) yet it’s such a relief not to have to hide anymore. And observing my bewildered logical brain, not knowing what to do with all these emotions.
So for now, the only best thing seems to be meditate, meditate and meditate some more. And write inbetween them.
This is the 3rd personal blog I have. Every blog marked a phrase of my life. Flotsams of the first blog are still around on the internet, I would catch a random page here and there when I googled my old handle. I still have the 2nd blog at Livejournal. But somehow I can’t go back to it anymore, it’s like I have crossed a point and there’s no returning to the state I was back then. Not that I wish to, just that it’s somehow remarkable that my state of being had shifted.
Over the 2 blogs, I realised my writing got better, and my mental thoughts clearer. Before starting a journal, blog, my mental thoughts used to be messier, like scribblings. It showed in my first blog. Trails of thoughts leapfrogged and taking haphazard lives of their own and wandered into the swamps of meaningless endings. Now it’s gets a little better, the thoughts try to come to some sort of logical conclusion as they leave my brain and come to print. Does writing changes how the brain functions? Hmmm it might be so, perhaps that’s why Peter the Czar made all his peasants go to school.
I have a good feeling about the next 30 days.