Something unexpected happened a few minutes ago. Someone wrote to me and shared how much she enjoyed reading the recent articles I have posted on LinkedIn, but admitted she would take a while longer to get around to completing all. I felt so heartened that I replied back saying, “I haven’t written one, today!’. She replied, “But then there are four hours left” 🙂
So I thought, I must start with asking myself why do I write?
But first, do you believe in Angels? I do. My forthcoming book came from an inspiration from a Muse. She was a cheerful spirit that hovered around looking for me to welcome her. She approached a year ago, knocked softly and waited. She snuggled right in, announced herself with the idea of this book. Like an ember, she invited me to blow into it. I knew she would fly away soon if I did not do something. Months later, I would discover someone wrote the same thing, I wished to say. This time, I made place for her, and asked for her to be by my side. As I worked on joining the dots, she revealed herself each day, first as a silhouette, and as I joined the dots, gradually revealing herself even more. The book formed itself. To you, creative angel I owe my deepest gratitude. Thank you for staying by my side.
My struggle with writing has been a long one. 15 years back, I would feel shy to write my comments on blogs: Did what I have to say, seem relevant, did it matter, would I look stupid. I began with a promise to write 6 blogs in a year in 2011, as a commitment to myself. The dam within me opened, words sprang from the depth of my being, from the deep recesses of my soul, often my head would bend offering her richness in a rich panoply of words and thoughts. Words gushed like a dam, in flood. My blogs continued, but as a private well for myself, and I was happy on my own! I called my blog – my very own personal space.
But my biggest joy is when I have touched a chord in my heart, even when deep within my soul stirs to find expression. The poems of Rumi two of which I posted opened my heart of the deepest cave of love and poetry, and to make his words in Farsi ring thru. My writings have been an even greater joy, than my first love: the deep joy of reading, especially deep stuff that requires a synoptical contemplation.
Recently, I have been bolder, more daring. taking even more risks with my choice of content and form. I must admit, that writing has come with major secondary benefits as well: the endorphins popping each time, I get a ‘like’, even better a ‘comment’. But I long to create something more: a Sangam of dialogue, and deliberation, a small lake with me and my community of readers: to dip our feet, share and commune. This is my hope.
Dear Reader, will you join me and walk alongside…..?