There is a distinct hesitance in the moment before I put pen to paper. Moments ago, this notebook was untouched, pristine. Did I just vandalize this paper's promise for something worth its existence?
And yet, it's there. The ink has touched the paper, its irrevocable existence colliding, solid from liquid, form from formless, reality from possibility. An idea is born.
There is no rough draft for life. And yet, it is exactly that. Rough. Bumpy. Uncomfortable. Awkward. Embarrassing. Messy. Chaotic.
There is tremendous beauty to be had from these things, despite their unattractiveness. But it remains unexperienced, so long as the ink stays in the pen, the paper left untouched.
(April 6th, 2009)
Today (3/28) is my twenty-third birthday. I wrote the above entry nearly two year ago, but something keeps bringing me back to it. Probably the idea that nothing can happen without a beginning.
This new year is going to have a lot of beginnings. The beginning of my life together with my fiance. The beginning of life in another country. The beginning of real adulthood. It is freaking scary, and there are times when I just want to flee from any change. But if I were to do that, it would be just like leaving that ink in the pen, and leaving that paper untouched. After all, how are we supposed to learn without having the courage to tangibly manifest our ideas? Without manifesting them, we'll never know that perhaps those ideas were really onto something.
So yeah, fear is present. But love is deeper than fear. And the joy of putting pen to paper, idea to reality, thought to voice... that's deeper than fear too.
I look forward to really making something of this blog, and I hope you will join me on the ride.
