The Early Stages Of Success

It isn’t always possible to get something right on the first go around. There’s a lot of factors at play that could push the success of a project to become a failure. It’s no fun to work on something that ends up being a failure. A by product of mismanaged time that cannot be replaced.

Yet for the most part we are surrounded by and interact with successes. Of course there are wide interpretations of what qualifies as a success. Far and wide what we see and touch every day was at one point declared a success and shared with the world at large. Yes, one man’s success is another man’s failure, however the impetus to contribute something meaningful to society lurks from the outset. That is why we are bombarded by commercials exalting the release of a new product fated for success, only to reflect on its tragic demise after some months pass.
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Why Creative Writing Is Scary

Every time I sit to write I’m looking for the perfect start. The perfect way to begin my first sentence that’ll encourage (and in large part demand) the reader’s continued audience. I commonly find myself at a loss for words, a phenomenon seldom experienced in real-world rapports. How strange is this static written medium to choke the chattiness from me? How strange it is that I find myself with an endless stream of word and story to share with my neighbor, yet the effort to do the same via e-mail results in horrible and uncomfortable stagnation.
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The Creative Mind Resurfaces

I’ve been trying to write anything recently without much success. Every time I think about opening a document to write something I balk and fearfully run away, believing whatever I would have written wouldn’t add up to much.

It’s not something that I call writer’s block. It’s something a little more subtle, a little more calm but equally stymying, preventing me from writing and from enjoying writing.

It’s been my thought that perhaps I’m reading too much technical documentation recently, causing my mind to assume a very rigid form in regards to how I think and ultimately write. That perhaps were I to read more literary material I would be more apt to write and feel much freer when writing.

For every time I sit down to begin composing words into coherent sentences – ultimately paragraphs – a great tension builds in the middle of my chest. Knots and tightly wound muscles stress their discomfort and more often than not force me away, leaving composition incomplete.

Then there are other excuses I have enjoyed using. ‘What text editor will I use?’ is the question I have been posing to myself quite consistently recently. I’ve never really used Microsoft Word to write these blog posts because it takes far too long to open and by the time it’s finally open I’ve already talked myself out of writing anything and close the program as soon as it’s open.

I don’t use the default WordPress editor because of too many past bad experiences: from the web browser crashing and causing me to lose most of my work, to feeling cramped by the browser and creatively inhibited, the online text editor has never been a top choice of mine.

Usually what I use is this little program called TextMate – which I’m actually using right now – that is pretty much Notepad or TextEdit on steroids. Although most of the ‘steroids’ of TextMate come into play when doing programming work, I’ve found it to be quite a durable and dependable writing companion. It’s never crashed on me unexpectedly, it opens without pain, and it is quite nimbly customized.

So why have I been so reluctant to write a blog post recently?

The answer just has to be that I’ve been reluctant to write – period. My mind has strayed so close to technical leanings of late that for me to switch gears into a literary mode has been near impossible. However it appears my literary mind is beginning to rebel and demand the attention it has sorely missed.

The first sign of this swing occurred last night. I was alone in the apartment I share with my girlfriend and pulled out and began to play my guitar with an intensity and focus I haven’t experienced in at least a month. It would seem that I need to get down to some creative work or fear the wrath of my creative brain. And that part of me is quite inventive when it comes to revenge. Which shouldn’t surprise – it is my creative center after all.

Writing to Capture an Emotion

This morning I woke up with a smile on my face and sunlight sneaking its way past my curtains. Laying on my back, I watched the curtains twitch and slightly move due to the air conditioner blowing against them. There was never quite enough pressure to fully move the curtain, but watching it twitch and giggle from the tickling air was fun enough.

Opening the curtains to begin the day is exhilarating: I always seem to forget the brightness mornings bring. I don’t hold it against myself – the nights are so dark it seems impossible that sunlight would ever return. Even when I wake up in the middle of the night – at 6am – dawn has only just begun to poke its head around the corner. It basks everything in an eerie blue-red glow that I can only describe as the nighttime-daytime hand-off.

And then it’s time to revel in my morning ritual of breakfast tea and morning music. Sipping on the freshly made pot of green tea, while listening to music (that illuminates my surroundings in unnatural sheen of joy), is the moment of the morning that I relish without abandon. For as I sip my tea, and listen to my tunes, I peer aimlessly out the window and rest while awake. I enjoy life as I have been taught: loving and dwelling in all that makes me happy.

For it is these simple pleasures that make the days past while keeping a smile on my face. The time I take to sit and sip my tea is one that nobody can give me. It’s a pleasure that I must take for myself, one that I must protect and appreciate while occurring.

Of course it would be far too easy to gulp down my tea and run out the door, never giving my mind a second to wake-up to the day and its new intricacies. This seems to be the modus operandi that society at large seeks to impress on its members. The get-up, get-going attitude that wears you out before you’ve even begun lunch.

Life isn’t a marathon, we’re all gonna cross the finish line the same way. It seems pointless to rush to the end, knowing full-well what will happen. Why not enjoy the scenery as it passes?

And that’s what I try and do. Each morning, with my hot pot of green tea, and me.

Juggling

Although I never promised that this blog would be updated regularly I still feel I should explain (to anyone reading) why updates occur haphazardly.

Let’s start with this blog as Commitment #1. (Although I feel it’s too early for this blog to be considered a ‘commitment’ – it hasn’t been around long enough that I feel I have committed to it. I intend to commit but time will be the judge.)

Before I began this blog I immediately ruled out the possibility that it would be updated daily. Not only would that be immensely time consuming but I don’t have enough worthwhile things to say.

College is Commitment #2. Right now I am taking five different classes at my university – no small feat. And in order to stay current with my studies I must attend class and produce whatever homework is required. Continue reading