I have another confession to make…
Yes, what I said in my previous blogpost is true… that I have been busy with work and then lazy with my free time. But that didn’t keep me from posting in my other blog…but not here. But that’s not without trying. I know that’s a lot of buts and it’s starting to sound like I’m just making up excuses. Well, the truth is I think I wasn’t inspired enough to come up with a topic about Love…Life…and Lies… I guess it has something to do with “not being sad”. You know what they say, “the sweetest songs are always the saddest”. Right? Well, of course, we also get inspired when are most happy. Yeah, I agree. I guess it is because I’m neither of the two.
I am not in the least sad. So, no chance for a tearjerker drama queen post. I’m most of the time happy and contented with what I have and where I am right now. But maybe not ecstatically happy enough to be inspired and write a love poem or blog about love, or life. And then I remembered (again, because I always do in times like this) what Rainer Maria Rilke said in his Letters to a Young Poet:
“If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place.”
Yeah, I guess I’m still not enough of a poet to call forth life’s riches because I always come to this “uninspired” phase. So, I now sit here, typing this blog away as I think of something to say or where to lead this rambling to….
(A very long pause)
Okay…I'm back! I reached for my old copy of Letters to a Young Poet and reread Rilke’s first letter. I have read this many times already but it still gets me every time. On asking other people’s opinion about your work, Rilke said: “You are looking outside, and that is what you should most avoid right now. No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write?”
So, I asked myself, “Must I really write?” I’m not even sure if there are people out there who read my blogs. Yes, my blogs get views or visitors every day but do they really read my posts? Or I’m just talking to myself here in an unheard monologue, reaching nobody’s ears? Then I thought, “Who cares?” As long as I let it out. I remember using my poems as an outlet of my emotions. I don’t keep a diary per se. My poems can be considered my diary entries. They are my thoughts and feelings put into words. And sometimes other people’s as well. No one really reads them, unless I show it to some people. And now, I have my blogs where I publish my thoughts. I can’t be sure if there’s someone out there who appreciates my posts unless they leave me a message. But that’s okay, I guess. At least, there’s still the possibility that I may touch another person’s life through my writing. And even if I don’t, there’s still the satisfaction… the relief of speaking out my thoughts, letting out my emotions. Besides, the vastness of the entire Universe is always there to listen. As Paulo Coelho said:
“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
So how would the Universe know my heart’s desires if I don’t say it, right? And this is how I got over my lack of inspiration to write :) Here’s to hoping to write more often!