Since the beginning of this year, I rarely post an entry in this blog. And prior to that, I’ve mentioned my thoughts about the attractiveness of creative writing waning already for me as a goal that I must pursue. I added that I see no sense in writing another conflict through literature to be read by conflict-plagued people. There is basically no sense adding to the chaos of life.
And during those self-imposed reclusive online life, I unconsciously made a resolution to be silent. Act no more. Think no more. Write no more. If there ever were times that I write those efforts were all related to my work as a freelance writer. I even dropped the idea of reading more books to accumulate more information and knowledge. Probably, I have said to myself that I’ve already had enough dose of reading.
When I mentioned to Lil Feather that I no longer want to pursue writing, the real writing that I defined from the moment I decided that I wanted to be a writer, all she could say to me was she supports me on anything that I want in this life. But, she added, if she only had the talent that I have she would have chosen to use it.
What can I say to that? Am I being lead to a misinterpretation of all the studies that I have been involved during this past year? Another question that played on my mind was do I really get the right lessons of all of my readings and practice?
Somehow, there is a doubt in my head that I surely don’t get the lessons being imparted on me by my studies. The spectrum of the experiential knowledge and wisdom of my study is so vast and can take me eons to fully understand and skillfully practice that I am left almost stupefied on what to do with the trickle of mindfulness that I’m observing.
Nevertheless, there is something good that happened during the times that I stopped yakking about my intention to write or become a ‘real’ writer. I noticed in my silence that this dream of becoming a writer will never happen because I’m caught by the bad habit of merely talking and complaining about it. Since the start of my journey and learning to become a writer, all I wrote were all complains and woes about writing this story etc. In my silence and resolution to stop writing for a while, I somehow stopped the vicious cycle of merely a dreamer than a doer. I stopped the record in my head that has been playing over and over again that I wanted to be a writer, clouding my mind to think creatively of a story and wasting my energy that should be used for the writing proper.
The silence has become a portal for me to see my self in the mirror while being detached at the same time to fully evaluate myself, particularly my pursuit for writing. The silence for a year also gave me a respite to recharge myself, stop for a moment and see the potential that is being wasted because of the bad habit that I developed.
Probably, when I said to Lil Feather that I no longer want to pursue writing, I should have said that I was only taking a respite, cleaning myself from the bad habit of talking more of writing than doing the writing proper.
As the silence grows deeper, the clarity of mind to see and discern stories gets stronger.
