Friday, December 14, 2012

The trick is to keep breathing.

"Write what you know".
This past year, I have used every possible excuse not to blog. Laziness, lack of time, lack of energy and even the crappy excuse that the world identifies as Writer's Block.
The truth is, I've always felt like I should write what I see, exactly how I see it. But, this year has made me question everything that I thought I knew. The things that I took for granted, now lie in a crumbled heap in some crevice of my mind. Revaluation is tough that way. When you're forced to confront things that you accept as fact, you realise the sheer incompleteness of your knowledge. I cannot write what I know, because I'm no longer sure if I know anything at all.

"Time heals all wounds"
Yeah right.
This is the number one fail-of-a-platitude that is force fed to you everytime life drops a bombshell. Because if enough time passes the pain has to ebb away, right? What a crock. It isn't going anywhere. You can't expect to wake up one morning and be magically cleansed of all the hurt you carry. If the source of your pain continues to be a thorn in your side, I can pretty much guarantee that you will want to punch a wall, or the person (if it is indeed a person causing the pain). And I'm sure forgiveness is great, it's greatly advocated for release and catharsis and whatnot. But what do you do when anger is all that you have left? When it is the last shred that you hang on to?

"Let it go"
This one is the worst. If it meant something, how do you let go of it? When you invest a part of yourself in anything, you have expectations. And when the expectations aren't fulfilled, you feel cheated. The worst part is, you can't even not invest yourself in things, because then you'll never feel anything at all. So in the delicate balance that keeps you weighed between believing and brushing it aside, you need to pick your battles carefully. Letting go is not always an option. Because sometimes it's an acknowledgement of failure. And nobody wants to fail, even while we subconsciously set ourselves up for it.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Not all those who wander are lost

Wanderlust. It's a rather beautiful term. I identify it with a whirl of colours, which seamlessly blend into a gypsy's skirt. I've always felt like travelling might be the answer to all of life's problems. After all, if you run far enough, you should be able to escape from whatever ties you down, right? Naturally, this sort of escapist thinking is about as naive as it gets, something I'm beginning to realise only now, after Nikita rather philosophically remarked to me that the hills will not provide any reprieve unless I am mentally sorted.

The title of this blog is part of a quote from Tolkien. I'd like to believe that that man had all the answers. Unfortunately, however, I find myself questioning this particular line of thought. Every journey, to my mind, is the search for meaning. People might argue and attribute things like holidays to a need for recharging batteries and whatnot. Though I feel like even this necessary "recharge" arises out of a need to find something that we may not even realise was missing. And no, it doesn't have to be a great, soul-searching, inspirational sort of self discovery. It can be as simple as finding a truly amazing pair of shoes after a hard fought bargain in some back corner of the back-of-beyond flea market in some unnamed holiday destination. Conversely, it may not be quite so trivial, and you might find yourself recovering a piece of you that you'd forgotten even existed.

Whatever the case may be, the point I'm trying to make is that anybody who wanders IS lost. Maybe not lost in an existential manner of speaking, or even literally. But don't get me wrong, wandering does not imply aimlessness. Not even for a second would I suggest something so high-handed. It's just that I feel like you cannot truly embark on any journey, without subconsciously searching for something. To imply otherwise would mean that we are truly fulfilled human beings who have reached our full potential of Jungian self actualisation. And God knows that's a crock. Because if you'd really reached that kind of happy place, would you seriously be sitting and reading my ramblings? Jussayin'