I have been missing my writing.
You know those moments when you do nothing and words just flow to legibly paint the canvas and define the scene you’re staring at? Or may be those written feelings, which you never thought existed till you sat down with your fountain pen and a blank piece of paper?
I’ve never been much of a writer but poetry always came easy. And as I sit here, in Switzerland’s picture perfect landscape, staring at Lake Geneva, I know this sight can make a poet of anyone.
But where are my words?
Being present is a pledge I made to myself as last year came to an end. And 30 days into the first month of the year, I’m still racing through my ‘work to finish’ list faster than ever before. These are perils of being a location independent worker (when we’re actually never on a holiday), and common struggles for most newbie freelancers like me.
In addition, there is this insatiable desire to see it all. I want to grasp as much of the place in my day, memory, camera and notes! These inspire me to share healthier travel stories (and of course, nurture myself to become a better person). If I don’t go out and meet these people, how do I share their stories with you? And within the moment of actually having a conversation, I’m suddenly evaluating the essence of it or switched over to a deadline I have to meet.
Last year, when I met the very lovely Sarita (who writes human interest stories), we briefly discussed the disparities of being a writer. For one, I wanted to know how she kept her level of detachment when exploring the stories she does, which consequently directed the conversation towards her introspection of bringing about a change (in the lives of the people she wrote/met.) To which I replied ‘by writing about it.’ After all, don’t we help each other if we just do our own job well?
But am I doing mine?
In this course of making (some) money and managing time (efficiently), I feel I have somewhere lost the ability to maintain the life-travel-money balance. And thus, when I am travelling, I am working (which brings in the monies), and losing the ability to tell the stories I want to (which is a pity) and hence, diluting the bigger aspirations I have in life.
And so, in my quest of finding this balance, I’m allowing myself the luxury of two months. During this time, there may be an erratic change in my stories or the patterns here (on my blog). And in return, I ask you for your patience.
Because it isn’t every day that I wake up to see Lake Geneva replicating the sky’s colours and running out of words to share them with you.
May be it’s like how they said it in The Lunchbox, ‘I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to.’
You’re always welcome to add to my random musings.