I seldom ever know how to begin these entries. It’s day 4 today of this 30-day challenge and honestly, I’m really enjoying it.
I haven’t been this elated since the last time Arsenal really won something. Ah, the good old days of the ogs like Thierry Henry.
I don’t know about you, but those days seemed so much more simple than today. I remember the times when I would look up into the sky from my bunk bed—I couldn’t have been more than 5 years old, but I distinctively remember looking into the distance, watching on as Orion sagged his trousers, counting the stars and the nebulas, thinking “ah I wonder what’s out there”
I smile as I write this because life is just so different right now. It’s interesting to think that there was a day when strategy was not a part of my thought.
I pride myself as a free thinker but how free can we truly be within the realms of society?
In today’s entry, the question in my mind is this.
How much of my thoughts are my own?
I’m joking, we’re not going to talk about that today but maybe on another entry.
But I wanted to make a small point, so before I do let me explain.
This afternoon, I dropped a video on Instagram challenging a few friends and others to join me in writing for the next 30 days. And immediately after posting this, I had a bunch of messages with questions, I even had a good friend of mine (Ronelle) doubt herself, because she just wasn’t sure that she could just write daily. So I shared with her a few things which I think really help.
I expressed to her the beauty of writing or rather the beauty of pressure.
The number one thing pressure or rather time constraints add to any commitment is action. You often find that you seldom have time to think or plan and find yourself in this continual process of observation.
You find that to do is to be.
When listening to the concerns of Ronelle and others, I noticed that most people generally were unsure if they could have so much to talk about.
This is the reality of most.
In fact, many of us don’t realise how much value is in our lives at this moment, so in moments where we may be asked to speak, we wind up voiceless.
Stop right now and look around you.
How does the air feel in your lungs?
Close your eyes and wiggle your toes, then let the sensation rise, then move your fingers.
What can you feel right now?
What can you hear?
Let’s do a little exercise.
1. start a little timer, set it to 3 minutes and close your eyes.
2. Once the timer starts, no talking, opening of eyes or interactions with any outside influence. Just feel the thought and respond, or don’t.
3. Sit there until the timer ends.
Now tell me what you felt.
Observe the thoughts your mind produced, and pay attention to what rises in you and write those down.
Pick up your pen and write about it. Therein lies something, something worth exploring.
Back to the matter…
Remember that point I said I was going to make? Well, I’m going to attempt to make it again. Let’s see how this goes.
I began writing this entry on the bus whilst occasionally glancing at Ronelle as she had her notes page open thinking of what to say. I was smiling because I had explained to her the profound freedom I found in the last few days.
I smiled at the joy of not caring what would happen if I didn’t write the best thing. As she pondered I decided that I would write this story as an expression of how I see life, and really the beauty of the summation of its often small revelations.
We know so little.
See in the story I began with a few short joys and memories. I reflected on my years of adolescence, truly immersing myself in a thought I hadn’t walked down in years. I found myself engaged. I began writing about that journey and before you knew it I changed directions. I thoroughly enjoyed taking you down a path I had no plan on walking down or in this case elucidating on, all for the opportunity to say this;
Such is life.
Often because we start life in the middle— And here me out, it’s not that we started life in the middle of the story, but also we just can’t remember certain things like coming out of the womb or blowing that candle in that picture that always resurfaces each year on Christmas. We just cannot remember nor process how we got here.
Yet if we journey in this middle of that which we found ourselves, we can begin to realise that our story is both being written and discovered.
What an adventure!
If you’re a film fanatic like me, then you will know that the best stories are the ones where you find yourself right bang in the middle confused, and the beauty of the story unravels itself in making sense of it.
We see the character begin to put two and two together and suddenly you begin to revel. Your jaws hang open and you can’t believe your eyes. The confusion suddenly turns to curiosity, and then the movie ends.
This is the beauty and also the sadness of life.
The moment we begin to begin, it ends before we know it. So don’t wait to have the words to begin. Don’t wait to understand to start, and don’t wait till it all makes sense to make progress.
Imagine how great observers, adventurers and writers we could be if we just stopped worrying about where to begin in the story, and embrace the timeless curiosity of the right now— The middle.
Let me put it more simply…
If we dared more often to pick up our pen and write about what we don’t have to say, we might just encounter all the ink that lay in that pen.
Such is life.
We can only know how to live, by living right now. So here’s a friendly reminder from this incongruent letter of sorts— There is a wondrous joy in right now.
You don’t have to know what to say, just open your mouth whilst you can!
And that’s all.
Here’s to day 4!
I look forward to your more!
(If these write-ups don’t make sense, don’t worry. I’m just pouring out. I’ll write a good book one day!)
I saw your post on IG and I’m here. Definitely hoping on the challenge. Thank you for the much needed push🙏🏾