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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