First Blog- The Beauty of a Blank Page
I’ve been a writer all my life. I don’t mean in terms of career, or profession, but using writing as a way of processing and being in the world. As a writer, there is nothing more tantalizing as a blank page. A vast landscape of white, with no parameters or conditions, beckoning for the first imprint of a pen nib or typed letter. An unhatched work of art that can metamorphosis into anything you want it to be.
A blank page is untapped potential.
The freedom is exhilarating. But it also overwhelming, and can render you paralyzed and unable to pen the first word. What if the thoughts don’t come out right, the way they undulate so eloquently in your head? What if the thought itself is arbitrary, or poorly developed at its core? What if, after all that time and energy of spewing thought into written language, a blank page would be preferable to whatever words come out?
These past few weeks, my schedule has evaporated and my days have become blank pages. Living in the midst of a global pandemic, the corona virus has shut down the usual functioning of the country, and countries across the world at large. I am a teacher by profession, and school is out for the foreseeable future. The government has banned gatherings of over five people, and are enforcing the order to to stay home, so social distance, and self-isolate. The fitness studios and gyms that I frequent have also been shut down, and bars and restaurants and public spaces have been ordered closed, bringing my social life as a newly single mid-twenty year old to a near halt.
My days have become strangely empty, and I am being forced to spend intimate, quality time with someone who I realize now that I have spent many years subtly evading.
Myself.
Who am I, outside of my identity at school, at the yoga studio, , or on a dating site? Where do I find joy, when I cannot be out with friends, or at pole class, or exploring the city? How do I feel productive, or engaged, when I am not teaching or planning lessons or practicing choreography or frequenting coffee shops? And when all of this is stripped away, what is beneath the lingering discomfort and anxiety that remains when all that I am left with is me.
In these days like blank pages, I hope to discover this identity, devoid of all the distractions of usual life. On this blog, I will be sharing my adventure of self discovery, how I am not just filling the days, but using this blank time as a gift to try new things, recconnect with old passions, and perhaps come to terms with some less than helpful habits and thought patterns that I have managing to brush off until now.
Stay tuned for some recipes, random musings, movement inspiration, tales of kindergarteners, and whatever else these blank pages morph into.
Tomorrow is unwritten. Today, I stand pen in hand, giving myself over to these blank pages, Let’s get started.