Blank page staring back at me. Asking me to write something.
Anything. Challenging me really. Ego getting in the way as I try to think of
something great rather than just writing. Sometimes the writing won’t come
because I am so worried about not being able to write making the process that
much harder. Rather than just going with the flow. And letting it come through
me.
Reminding me that life is like a blank page. There is no
prewritten script that we can remember. No instructions really about how to
live even though loads of people think they are expert enough to tell us how we
should live. But they can’t. No one can tell us how to live. We just have to
live. Creating and recreating our own stories.
Writers look at their new beginnings as blank pages. Artists
as blank canvasses. Architects as blank plans. And I could go on. Each one of
us has the ability to turn the page. To
write our own stories. Draw our own pictures according to the way we see life.
We are the masters of our destiny. Here to create masterpiece lives, mediocre
lives or whatever lives we are comfortable living. Not everyone is meant to be
a star. Not everyone is meant to be homeless. Not everyone is meant to be
middle of the road. But what each of us is meant to be is the best we can be.
Blank page. Sometimes can be daunting. Sometimes can be
intimidating. Sometimes can be downright frightening. But if we just let go and
surrender to the Divine. Surrender to the flow. Not worrying about ego. Not
worrying about what anyone else will say. Not worrying about falling flat on
our faces. Because we can be guaranteed there will be someone who will tell us
we can’t. Someone who will mock us. Just as there will be someone who will tell
us we can. Encourage us. And we can be guaranteed that at some point in our
lives we will fall flat out our faces. But the beauty of falling is once we
will ourselves to get up and start all over again, we understand the fall was
the best thing for us. Forcing us to find that blank page and starting all over again.
When I think about life in this way, that blank page
doesn’t seem as horrible anymore. No it doesn’t. The concept of a blank page
actually is liberating. Lovely in fact. Knowing I can create whatever story I
want is actually very exciting once I cast aside ego and replace it with the
courage to record the stories of every colourful and wonderful person, place or
thing. To write stories of my constantly changing experiences. To
understand that I can turn the page on experiences that don't resonate with me and start a new page. A blank page to change my story. Recreate
it in whatever way I desire. To write my own original story. No one else’s but
mine.
When I think about life like that, I feel all powerful. All knowing.
All free to be me. Particularly when I realise every single moment of every
single day I am given a new beginning. Another blank page to craft my story in
whatever way I choose. Wow.
Here’s to another new
beginning. Another blank page today. And I intend to take advantage of being
given the ability to choose a blank page and start all over again whenever I
feel the need. Crafting my story. Opening my heart, mind, body and soul to all
the opportunities that present themselves to me because they are all a part
of my life’s rich tapestry. Good and bad. Expected and unexpected. All forming the basis of my story called
life.
What could be better than that?
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