A Blank Page


The other day I had an email from my uncle saying that some of my articles on my blog made him remember things he thought he had completely forgotten. To be honest I even thought I had totally forgotten about some incidents that had occurred in my life long time ago. It is only when I sit at my desk, fountain pen in hand, staring at a blank page, that it all comes back to me. I remember everything about that particular event, every minute detail as to who was with me, their facial expressions, what they said, how I felt and even how the weather was at that time.

I find the creative process the most terrifying part because I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen or where it is going to lead. I don’t know what kind of new emotions the memory of some past experience will lead to. I don’t know what my reaction is going to be, or how I will end up transferring it on the page. I hesitate at first because I feel it takes an enormous amount of courage to leave my comfort zone and go back down memory lane not knowing what truly hides there. And then the moment I decide to put it all in writing comes yet another worry. I don’t know how people will react to what I say, whether they will hold it against me or share their thoughts with me. But in the end the power of creativity takes over and I dare to write it all down. (Not to mention that I personally hate to read or listen to anything that feels too cynical, too scripted.)

Then I realize that the more freely and openly I talk about myself and my experiences the more people relate to it and the more connected I feel to the world. The more genuine I become in communicating my personal experiences and even self-doubts, the more people can connect with my writing. In the words of Carl Rogers:

“That which is most personal is most general.”

ChK

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4 Responses to A Blank Page

  1. The honesty in one’s writing takes a certain amount of courage, exploring those emotions that may be painful. I commend your bravery. 🙂

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