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Writing to express and not to impress

As someone who loves to write, I’ve always had times in the past where I struggled with writer’s block - where I couldn’t think of anything interesting to say and no words seemed to come out.  I hated these moments.  I wanted to be able to write things that sounded cool and interesting, and that other people would like. I kept searching for ways to overcome these blocks so I could start writing again.  That’s when I realised that I was looking in the wrong direction. I was trying to impress others even though, in my heart, that wasn’t what I really cared about.  I realised writing, at least for me, was to express myself and not to impress others. My best writing came when I didn’t care about what others might think, but instead only cared about sharing my true feelings.  Writing isn’t about others. It’s about you. It is about what you feel in the moment and sharing that feeling with others.  As soon as we reduce the goal of writing to just that, expressing what we feel as best as we ca

Words with meaning

I once had the most unusual experience.  Someone had just said to me the words “Thank you”. Just these two words, nothing else.  Now ordinarily, I would never consider an occurrence like this to be anything unusual. However what made this day and this specific event unusual was that I didn’t just hear the words, I felt them.  In that moment it felt like the two of us were the only two people in this world, and the only feeling I could feel inside me was this person’s gratitude towards me. I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t feel anything except that feeling of gratitude. It felt like time had frozen still and this moment would last forever.  Now this didn’t makes any sense to me at all.  Words weren’t supposed to work like this. Words were just sounds we made with our mouths because our parents and teachers had taught us to make certain specific sounds at specific times or during specific occasions. Words weren’t supposed to have these kinds of feelings attached to them, and the feelin

Feelings can be very confusing sometimes

There was once a time when I had this mysterious feeling that I didn’t recognise. I didn’t even know what to call it, though I thought it might be boredom. The thing is, I can never really be sure whether a feeling is what I think it is, because I have no way to show the feeling to someone else and verify it’s name.  That’s the problem with feelings. It’s really hard to show someone your feelings properly. It’s equally as hard to describe them using words. Words are in fact such a horrendously inadequate means to convey emotions to another person that we can never be really sure whether they truly understand how we feel, even after we express our feelings to them.  I don’t know if it is possible for someone to hear or feel another person’s emotions without the other person saying a word. At least, I don’t think I’ve met anyone who could do this.  If I met someone like that, I’d have loved to ask them to explain to me what it is I was feeling, because I had no clue.  Maybe I wouldn’t ev

Shattered dreams

I always loved to dream big and beautiful dreams filled with joy and wonder, and because these dreams were always larger than life, I invariably also watched them shatter into little pieces.  I knew I could probably dream smaller and more realistic dreams so they didn’t always end up the same way, but if they became small and realistic would they still be dreams? So I decided to look at my dreams closely and tried to understand why they shattered so easily.  To my shock, I discovered that dreams didn’t really need to shatter.  Even dreams that never come true are beautiful and perfect and can last forever. The only reason my dreams shattered was because I stopped loving them if they didn’t come true.  It wasn’t the dreams. They were perfect and had always been so. I was the one who couldn’t see it anymore.  So now I no longer hold onto my dreams tightly like I did before. Once I dream, I let them go, no longer needing them to come true.  And as the dreams fly away from me, they soar ra

Trapped in Sleeplessness

After tons of introspection I have learned to recognise signs that I need sleep. Nothing too unusual. A little tiredness, a little restlessness, and an inability to focus on anything for too long.  What this means to me is that it’s time for me to take a little nap, unless of course it’s the end of the day, in which case it’s time for me to just call it a day and go to bed.  Now comes the problem that I have. Knowing I want to sleep, but not being able to.  I thought that writing an article on insomnia would be so boring that I’d fall asleep.  Sadly that does not seem to be the case.  Instead I seem to have  developed a morbid fascination with where this article is going. I can’t imagine it going anywhere significant because I am too sleepy to write anything particularly riveting. Instead, all I’m really doing is watching a stream of words flow out and wondering where they are headed.  I don’t want them to go anywhere too fascinating because then I won’t be able to fall asleep. On the

Living without Goals - Using the wisdom of children to navigate life as an adult

For most of my life, I insisted on having goals for everything I wanted to achieve.  Fitness? - “ This is how I want to look and these are the things I am going to do to get there ”. Wealth? - “ These are the things I want to have and these are the things I will do to try and get them ”.  Everything had a goal, and each goal had milestones and steps needed to accomplish them.  After years and years of banging my head against walls trying to achieve my goals, I realised something very important about goals - that striving for and achieving them are both equally pointless and unfulfilling.  The only thing I ever seemed to get out of accomplishing a goal was a momentary sense of achievement and then it was back to either getting bored with nothing to do or planning the next goal to strive for.  I was racing a never ending race with myself, while somehow pretending to myself that I was actually competing with other people and accomplishing a greater purpose. But the truth was no one else r

Prisoners of Time

Why is it that time seems to slow down so much when we are waiting for something?  Each second seems to stretch for eternity.  What is it that causes it to fly by when we would prefer to savour each second, but stand still when we would prefer to rush past the moment so we can get to the other side? It almost feels like time knows our deepest desires and does what it can to prevent us from ever getting what we want, i.e. more of what we call pleasure and less of what we consider suffering.  Is time even a real concept or just a made up four lettered word we use to measure how much we are suffering in a situation? Is the passing of time real or just an illusion? If time is just a man made concept that prolongs suffering, what can we do to stop this self inflicted suffering?  How do we master time so it no longer controls us in this way? Do things like meditation and spirituality enable us to be free of time?  If we stop believing in time, will it then stop bothering us and just go away?