I think I will call this part – Acceptance.

Do you guys mind if I talk about some other stuff for a while? For the first time in my life, I’m not feeling it. I always feel like writing, but I’ve ended up in a rather precarious situation. I have too long a list of wedding-related posts I want to write, and that’s where the problem lies. It’s too long. Sounds odd, right? Bloggers out there would kill to always have something to talk about. Why has this been a problem for me? Because it means I’m overwhelmed. Frustrated. And it means I’ve been trying to schedule my writing for months now, which is a really, really big problem. I can’t write on schedule. Occasionally, sure. But a daily schedule – argh. No way. I’ve perpetually been in a state of struggle. I want to lead a disciplined life, want to follow the habits of people I look up to. But give me 3 straight days of the same thing, and I need to change it on the 4^th day. How can someone like that become disciplined, and live around a schedule? It’s absolutely insane. And so, after trying and trying and trying for what seems like years, I’m going to accept myself for who I am.

I will never wake up at the same time every single day. Maybe I’ll have to once I have kids and have to make sure they get to school on time. But other than that phase, I just cannot imagine myself having a daily, fixed wake up time.

I will never eat the same thing every single day. They say you should have 5 almonds daily. My mom says you should have one egg, and one glass of milk every day. The world prescribes an apple a day. This s%#* just doesn’t float my boat. I will have an apple today, almonds tomorrow, and then no milk for 3 months.

I will never be obsessed with something forever. Well, maybe writing and reading, but nothing else. When I love something, I try and do/have it almost every day for a month. And then I drop it like it’s hot. No, I don’t plan on doing that to this blog. Or atleast I hope it doesn’t go that way. But this is who I am. I will love eating a salad daily for dinner, and I’ll do it for a whole month. And suddenly, I’m bored. On to the next delightful dish obsession. Currently, I’m obsessed with eating penne arrabbiata at Elma’s, the original Cheetos, coconut water, chicken noodle salad from Salad Days, hot chocolate from Choko La, and Keggs! You know, the organic eggs you get. I HATE the other normal egg taste now. Oh, and I’m also obsessed with floral patterns and mint green. The mint green obsession has survived for over 2 years now. Probably because of how rarely I find it.

I will never be able to patiently and slowly do a task over an elongated period of time. I do projects. I put my heart and soul into it. And then I’m done. It’s over, and I’m not thinking about it for another 6 months. The most straight-forward example I have is my bedroom. The day I decided I want to “set it up” and make it look like a beautiful home for my husband and I – was 18 months ago. And it’s the most frustrating thing I’ve ever had to do. Every time I try and take it on as a project again, there’s a hundred things that come up. Deciding where to buy furniture from, whom to get it made from. What should the colour scheme be? And I get uncomfortable spending large amounts of money in a single sitting. (But come on – furniture is expensive, you have to spend! Otherwise you will remain like me – without a book shelf and a shoe cabinet for 2 whole years). Point is, I feel this excruciating pain in my soul when things get dragged on for too long. I am unable to function till that one thing is done. Which is why I do projects. I do one thing, at one time. And then I finish it, and then I do the next thing. I need to wrap it up, and move on. Because if it’s not wrapped up, it’s like a migraine that never goes away.

I will never be zen and content. Deep inside, I know life’s good. I’m not an unhappy person. But I can’t be the sort of person who remains calm and undisturbed when someone around me is being irritating, impractical, illogical, inconsiderate, senseless or rude. Or my circumstances are uncomfortable. I might not say anything, but my insides churn. I will never, ever have a calm mind. I will always be thinking a hundred thoughts a minute. It’s just not me to sit down and be calm. I like to MAKE things happen. I like to take action. I like to get things done. I like to tick stuff off my to-do list. I love making to-do lists. When I tick things off it, I feel content and happy and joyous. Being calm was never on my wish-list. But since I’ve gotten married, I’ve been stumped. My husband and his family are the calmest people you’ll ever meet. You would think they’ve done a Zen course or something (they haven’t), and have been practicing it for decades. I can’t speak on their behalf and comment on whether it comes naturally to them, but I’ve constantly been comparing my perpetually restless state of mind to theirs, and I can see why I’ve felt disappointed in myself over and over again. I’ve been trying to match up to them, and I’ve been failing miserably. I now accept that it’s just not me, and I’ll never be that calm and zen. And I’m ok with it. I’m ok being me.

I will never be able to edit ruthlessly. Well, I can. But not in the way it comes recommended for writers. I will edit for flow, getting just the right words. But I cannot, for the life of me, completely remove paragraphs of what I’ve written for the sake of making the post shorter. I always feel like my writing sounds terrible whenever I’ve tried this random editing trick. It just doesn’t work for me.

I will never be able to hold onto the words for later. When I have a feeling I want to write, when the words start forming themselves in my head, I need to whip out my laptop and get typing. Because, as I’ve learnt over the course of 3 years, the words don’t come back. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. The idea, the concept might stay, sure. But it’s next to impossible to implement it once those sentences are gone.

I will never ever be ok with a mediocre life. In any aspect. Ever. NO.

I will never be able to follow the rules of blogging. Don’t get too personal. Stick to your target audience. Don’t write headlines longer than 6 words. Ummm…I don’t do so well with rules. Rules stifle me. I never thought I’d try learning the rules, but I’ve inadvertently stumbled upon so many of them as I’ve read articles over the years. Sub-consciously, I’ve tried implementing a few, to experiment with them and see if they work for me. They usually don’t. So starting today, I’m going back to my clean slate. No rules for me.

I will never be able to write on command. I can’t get back into the flow for a post once I’ve paused. This means I will delay going to the bathroom, forget I’m supposed to eat, put my phone on silent. Not even go to sleep. Because once I’ve stopped, I can’t just pick it up again the next day, or even after 15 minutes – exactly where I’ve left it off. It takes me really long to get back into the “flow”, and on some occasions, I’ve never been able to get back into it at all. And therefore, not finished what I started. *sad face*

I will never be able to write in a noisy room. Even a little bit of noise is extremely distracting to me. My parents always said, “If you really want to study, you’ll be able to study even in a noisy room.” But for me – I. just. can’t. I need complete silence.

—

I realize a lot of this has to do with writing. And lately, that’s been the problem. I’ve been trying different things, moving further and further away from my usual processes and ways. I’ve suddenly started coming to office every single day. I don’t write for 6 hours straight anymore, because I have somewhere to be, someone to meet. There is a schedule I’ve been trying to keep. I’ve been making to-do lists, everyday. I’m trying to become disciplined. But discipline, structure and schedules are screwing up my writing.

I just want to write. I know I’ve already told you about this in my New Year’s post, but I have to admit – I was practicing restraint in that post. I didn’t want to tell you truly how badly I’ve been struggling lately. After a really, really long time – I’ve finally poured my heart onto the keyboard. I’ve written for 2 hours straight (probably, maybe) and damn – it feels good. I don’t want to edit this, even though it would be sacrilege to do something like this on a blog I’ve always prided myself in editing the crap out of. But today is a different day. A new day. After a long time, I’ve opened myself up to getting this personal on the blog. It is a blog, after all. That’s what they’re meant for, right?

Point is – I feel like I need to accept things as they are. Myself, as I am. Maybe this was the thing that’s been causing this jam, this block. I don’t know if this 2 hour therapy session with my readers will help me, but hey – atleast I’ll never say I didn’t try.

I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what this post has started to sound like. But I just want to be happy for a while being me. Following what I feel like doing. Writing about what I feel like writing about. And I hope you stick around.

so you want to be a writer?

By Charles Bukowski

 

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don’t do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your

heart and your mind and your mouth

and your gut,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit for hours

staring at your computer screen

or hunched over your

typewriter

searching for words,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it for money or

fame,

don’t do it.

if you’re doing it because you want

women in your bed,

don’t do it.

if you have to sit there and

rewrite it again and again,

don’t do it.

if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,

don’t do it.

if you’re trying to write like somebody

else,

forget about it.

 

if you have to wait for it to roar out of

you,

then wait patiently.

if it never does roar out of you,

do something else.

 

if you first have to read it to your wife

or your girlfriend or your boyfriend

or your parents or to anybody at all,

you’re not ready.

 

don’t be like so many writers,

don’t be like so many thousands of

people who call themselves writers,

don’t be dull and boring and

pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-

love.

the libraries of the world have

yawned themselves to

sleep

over your kind.

don’t add to that.

don’t do it.

unless it comes out of

your soul like a rocket,

unless being still would

drive you to madness or

suicide or murder,

don’t do it.

unless the sun inside you is

burning your gut,

don’t do it.

 

when it is truly time,

and if you have been chosen,

it will do it by

itself and it will keep on doing it

until you die or it dies in you.

 

there is no other way.

 

and there never was.