Day Two or The Quiet Morning After

Have you ever had one of those wild nights when you made a sweeping declaration that you’re sure will change your destiny?

Or maybe those life-changing moments that you know forever shifted you outwardly and inwardly?

Often, these pivotal moments are followed by a still morning, with a deafening silence in its wake.

After the adrenaline has gone down and the dust has settled comes the quiet flutter of…everyday life.

What now?

Where do you go from here?

Remember thatĀ How I Met Your MotherĀ episode when Marshall finally decided to pull himself together after Lily broke off their engagement?

After being miserable, he finally stood his ground and decided to put back the pieces of his life.

But the morning that followed this decision didn’t really see him living his dream.

Like everyone of us outside an American TV hit series, it just consisted of putting one foot after another and doing what needs to be done even if sometimes you have to do it with gritted teeth.

Then one day Marshall whipped up some pancakes for breakfast and his friends knew, he’s finally crossed the threshold of misery into the glorious ordinariness of daily life.

Sometimes we get so caught up with chasing big dreams that we take for granted how many people struggle to just have an ordinary day. One that’s free of gut-wrenching pain and mind-reeling anxiety.

Yesterday, I made an almost sweeping declaration to clear up some space and time in the everyday rubble and noise that is my life.

And instead of making pancakes, I just set aside some time to let my thoughts run free – from worry, from being chased by deadlines, from being numbed by TV, and from being cluttered by social media.

And you know what, it’s just as fulfilling as a hearty breakfast.

marsh

My 13267th Attempt

writer

I feel like there’s a lot of expectations weighing on a first post.

I don’t even know how many times I’ve typed words that somehow refuse to string together, pressed on backspace rather frustratingly, and wonder if it’s the coffee that’s causing this wall on my mind that seems to be blocking my thoughts. I know what you’re thinking, isn’t coffee supposed to help?

Well, it does, most of the time. Sometimes though, like today, it’s causing a haze before my eyes that stops me from stringing one word to another.

Or maybe —

Maybe it’s because this doesn’t feel like a first post to me at all. It’s a fresh but numberless sheet on a notebook, after the pages before it were torn away, crumpled, and thrown onto the floor as witnesses of my frustrated attempt to write. Messy pages where I scrawled my messy thoughts.

Or maybe this is just another recluse’s clean, well-lighted place in a noisy, bizarre world.

I know I have censored myself in the past few years. I thought that not writing about things I feel strongly about would make them go away, as though I am keeping a flood at bay.

I don’t know.

I just know that it served me well to keep my thoughts some place other than the far corners of my mind.

So here it is, my nth attempt. Not the first, but hopefully not the last either.