Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Today I noticed that I don't really have a lot to talk about. There is plenty to say, but what I mean is that I don't have a political cause that I have championed, or any non-profits that I want to plug, no hidden social agenda or obvious ones for that matter. This alone can make it exceptionally hard to keep a blog going. Alas, fear not faithful readers, this just gives me more of a creative challenge as well as forcing me to take a moment to look at the reason why I write at all. All of us have our reasons why we do/enjoy the things that keep us sane, but sometimes we forget, or lose sight of what it is that makes us who we are. I like everyone tend to forget why all the time. My recent journey of self discovery has allowed me to figure out another reason why I have been straying from my path. Flash back to eight year old me, just imagine I have hair, sitting alone in my bedroom window in Philly reading a book. Reading, thanks to my father, has always been a passion of mine. On this particular day there was a pretty big rainstorm and as usual I was mesmerized by the large line of ominous black clouds that was headed for my part of the city. I have always found that watching a storm come in some how prepares your soul. Also row houses in the part of Philly I lived in provided pretty crappy views, so the storm clouds were a welcome break from staring at the back alley and the elevated train. Up to this point reading was my way of escaping the world around me. My imagination was pretty active, but I didn't realize how powerful words could be until I heard the voice of my mother telling me to put my book down and clean my room. Now, as a eight year old boy surrounded by my sisters and mom most of the time I was always escaping to my room to get away from things I thought were way too girly...you know, like watching the Music Man or My Fair Lady for the third time or Steel Magnolias, so this wasn't so bad. I figured I would take my time and get a little reading done while I "cleaned". An hour passed and I heard a knock on my door before my mom poked her head in the room to inspect my work. The room was cleaned and I was back perched at the window reading away. My mother complimented me immediately for the great job I did on the room, but I could tell that there was something I missed. Well, I apparently was way more into the book I was reading because the original request from my mother also involved my cleaning the bathroom and getting ready go to my aunt's house. Long story short, my mother and father were a little upset at me for making the family late getting out the house, but I realized for the first time that whether written or spoken words had a constant effect on me. The things we hear, the things we don't hear, the things we read, the things we don't read all effect us. It seems like the very next day I began to notice how all the guys in my sisters drama and acting group always had the attention of all the women when they were reciting the eloquent lines of a play or how poets were making the ladies swoon with a line or two they had written last night, or the way my eyeballs stayed glues to the pages of a good book for hours at a time. Anyway, words became my new weapon of choice and, in my mind, a sure fire way to get in with the ladies. I mean if my mom loved my poems what girl wouldn't? Well the problem is my new found passion for writing and poetry made me a better writer, but it didn't help me with the ladies as much as I thought it would. My biggest discovery to date looking back on my journey into the world of words and phrases was that my passion served another purpose for someone of my particular social ineptitude, it allowed me to deal directly with my feelings. No, I wasn't this wise at eight mind you, but looking back on my life writing was something I poured my emotions into constantly cleansing my soul. This is another of my recent revelations, my subconscious always knew he just decided to keep it to himself until recently. Ever since I started writing again I feel my balance returning and catch myself way before the darkness begins to creep up. Once again this blog is not about me preaching, but I felt I needed to take a moment to share. It is easy in today's society to let pieces of ourselves slip away causing us to change in ways we would never imagine. I challenge every person that reads this to take a moment and think about how we can reclaim these little pieces...who knows, you might accidentally make the world a better place. Thanks again for stopping by!