Light chases shadows. Shadows chase light. They run around in circles, or in spheroids if you will, since ours is a three dimensional world (or is it four?). I’ve forgotten my Physics. They run around, one after the other but you’re never quite sure which one’s chasing or which one’s running away at any one point.
I’ve been spending time outdoors on many afternoons this January. I’ve foregone some lunches to sit and read outside, choosing to nourish a starving soul over satisfying an empty stomach. Thankfully, I’ve always come away filled. There’s something about the January sun, bathing everything in its iridescent, soft glow making plants and trees, flowers and leaves, soil and pavement and grass take on a pearly sheen that you just want to bask in it.
Me and my dreams. Why try to capture such a scene with words instead of a camera and click away. After all, who wants to waste time imagining instead of seeing?
And I am that. Always craving for answers and dreading any stage of hoping. Always controlling. Always hesitant to any organic shape-taking. Crazy about fulfilling schedules, shunning away and cringing on any disturbance. Comfortable with lists and must-do’s, and clear cut step-1-2-3’s. Scared to death of anything unstructured.
So when this year dawned on me being in a different place and set of circumstances from where I’ve planned to be, my days have been shadows and lights playing with my eyes, my writing as unsteady and fickle minded like the January sun, sometimes peeking shyly, sometimes appearing confidently, sometimes not bothering to show up at all. And I am left bewildered and surprised, mostly clueless on how I’m supposed to make the most of it. And it makes me wonder if I’ll ever be comfortable with this writing thing seeing it is very much unlike me in predictability. Oh to be more like Lady Mary who whispered to her husband-to-be at the altar, “I should hate to be predictable.”
But then I’m just starting anyway. Maybe I’m still getting used to it. There’s work to do and more practice is needed. But I’m also giving it breathing space, a chance to grow naturally. It still feels stilted and forced right now. Maybe after a million more words it would feel a bit like second skin. Anyway, it’s just the last day of the first month of 2014.image courtesy of: http://oneithersidetheriverlie.tumblr.com/post/42744024532/i-should-hate-to-be-predictable