When Joan Didion said, ‘we tell ourselves stories in order to live’, I think she meant - the stories we delude ourselves with.
I used to think that if I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning, I’d hammer through the noon and end it with a Thud! Whack! Clanggg! before I hit the sack. But once I had a hammer, I realised I wasn’t hammering as much I said I would.
Three months ago, I quit my cushy, white-collar job to write. I was going to author a book of short stories, start my own mini publication and complete twenty essays for my blog. This is the first blog entry.
At this point, I am compelled to share that I did complete one short story and the first issue of the said publication, however, there remains the subject of submission and distribution for both to be completely ‘complete’. In other words, I have been hammering with a speed that befits a sloth, who technically couldn’t be bothered by such existential analogies in the first place and would see what I am doing for what it is: taking it slow.
I don’t mean ‘slow’ in the same vein as the glorified ‘slow life’ is written about. I mean slow in all the slowness of a worm in the rain burrowing into mud, only to find it upturned in a minute and back to the surface to start the process all over again. No, the worm did not wait to smell the petrichor or admire the rose. That is to say that the process of trying to do something and coming up short is slow but also exhausting. If only I had not deluded myself into intensely hammering away – moulding, carving, forging words into lyrical prose – maybe then I would have accepted my slowness without the bitter taste of failure in my mouth.
But all is not gloom and doom, rather it has come to my notice that I have broken a year long hiatus from writing my blog. Should anyone ask why such drivel deserves time – I’d say we all need small victories, even if it’s a made-up goal only to make me feel a tad less slow at the end of the day. Not to forget a bit of hammering was also involved.
Now for some pictures of things I distract myself with.
|Looking up (at cherry blossoms in the night)|
|Meeting friends I haven't seen in ages|