It’s as though I’ve been loosed.
Having a laptop of my own, finally, after…let’s see…oh, about 6 years- what a difference it truly makes! I feel free to be myself, to write as needed. And this is what my new year is all about: getting back to who I am. It doesn’t matter that my new year (or shall I say, my new life?) won’t begin for a couple more weeks yet, I know I am emerging from my chrysalis into something much more dynamic than I’ve felt in some time.
My essence has been lost for far too long. I’ve been focused on so many other things…other people…I’ve managed to lose myself in the shuffle. When I went back for the retrieval it seemed nothing was there- just a void of blank pages. I always understood that my “self” was this entity I had to go about discovering, as though it were a separate being unto itself. I think, perhaps, my self is something to be created with the raw materials I already possess, things I already know about myself but never shaped into form. Things like:
The way I feel when I sing or dance
My attraction to bright colors or flashy patterns
The way I can make awesome guacamole with no recipe or measurements
My never-ending seeking for something beyond the seen
My refusal to give up, even if I swim in a river of emotional tar for weeks
The reckless dedication with which I approach pretty much anything
My love for California
and not least of all, my words.
My starting point is this: I am a writer. Not because I write better than everyone else. Not because my writing never has mistakes, or is read by millions. I am not a writer because I have aspirations to be published or because I’ve written anything besides reflections and poetry.
I am a writer, simply because I need to write. Ever since I was given my first diary in second grade, I can’t escape the itch. My biggest regret is that several of my childhood journals got lost in the USPS when I tried to ship them to myself from California in 1998. I have still in my closet a bin of journals that still remain, scraps of musings I jotted on college assignments, and anything else that forced my pen to paper. I don’t know what I plan on doing with them some day, but I feel like that box contains my essence. It is a recorded journey of everything which has led me to my present moment…all lessons to learn again and jokes to laugh at once more.
All these years, and I haven’t been able to stop. It wells in me, like any passion, until I release it. It doesn’t matter anymore if anyone hears. This is being true to myself. I am going to let this well flow as it needs to, and follow its streams until I become all of me.
“….your Lord is the Most Generous, Who taught by the Pen, taught man that which he knew not….”
It WILL be an amazing year, in shaa Allah!