Story of my life

There are people with a religion.
There are people with a culture.
There are people with a job.
There are people with a family.
And then there are people with a story.

I am a person with a story.
I have a story, not only to tell, but to carry with me as well.

I am not defined by the culture I grew up or live in, or the
religious beliefs that I hold.
I am not defined by the training I had, or the career I
might pursue.
I am not defined by the family that raised me or the people that I surround myself with.

I am defined by that story.
The story of my life.

A Letter to Purpose.

Hello Purpose, remember me ?

I first met you over a dozen years ago, an insignificant while before my childhood froze into wintertime. As that ice sculpture still remains, other seasons thoroughly overwhelmed and interrogated the rest of my belongings. In reflection to what I may have lost or gained during the lengthy depths of travels through these times and spaces, I could find no reason to resist a recollection, specificly of our distinct familiarity within the wide spectrum of all supposed acknowledgments.

I have no pretense to claim in presuming that you might be inclined with this same sensation, but I feel strongly dysphoric about the unforseen and somewhat reluctantly imposed seperation that fell upon our amity so unfortunately. Who is to blame, perhaps, if blame is entitled to posture in this particular affair, I will not be the one to judge.

Because our acquaintance was of fairly short duration, and therefore qualifying merely as vague and faintly unconscious, it received never a chance to be or become more deeply intensified. This to my most sincere regretfulness, as our former interactions held so much promise within their potentials. In spite of this endurance of unawareness on both ends, I know there is still a mutual understanding of how it used to be and possible a slightly more sufficient and respectful comprehension of how it could be, to begin with.

These apparant visions I gave focus on sharing with you, for us to plausibly reunite in any of the nearest by of futures, in absence of any sense of expectant coercion, are faithfully substantiated and hopefully witnessed within the care of this letter.

Hereby, I salute you, hence seeking eagerly forward to, if residing in good fortunes, an equally heartfelt response.

Forever Faithful & Patiently Awaiting,
a previous possessor of Purpose.

The ability to write…

Periods of time gone by, I only find myself now in the right place and time and most importantly in the position of ability to …write.
It’s hard to specify what makes it possible for me to write. What are the necessary factors that play a part in the proces of writing.

First of all, a certain sense of peace and rest, calmth and emptiness. Creativity and inspiration get killed by an overflow of information. Both visual as auditive noise can murder the flow of a thinker, a writer. Anything breaking the chain of concentration has to be diminished and eliminated in order to keep steady a stable progress.

It often occurs that one finds him- or herself in the right place and time and even ability to write a piece. The concentration flow has been sacredly kept save and isolated from any interference or ‘contra flow’. The creativity and inspiration seem close at hand, but somehow remain unreachable. Writers call it ‘writersblock’, although this term can also refer to not having any creativity or inspiration or whatsoever at all. I call this ‘flow lock’. All the right features are in place, the mental space filled with nothing but emptiness, calmth covers the senses. A river of creative cognition and intellectual inspiration is running through the mind rapidly. Until it hits a barrier, a large iron watergate. You can feel the creativity and inspiration bubble up and burst into the gate. But there seems no way to let it loose. Like a mime player, in an imaginary box. An enraged lion in a golden cage. A dancer whose legs got amputated. It feels like a handicap, a disability. Failure.

Failure means, making an attempt that turns out to be or become unsuccesful. Failure does not have to be taken negatively. Failure can be seen as the road to success: after falling off your bike a hundred times, the hundred-and-first time you manage to stay on it! Failure can also be seen as a process of learning: the experience you gain through the many failures you make, can be or become useful for other purposes. Generally, people link failure to a feeling of guilt. They somehow feel bad because they weren’t succesful. They thought they should or could have done better.

I think this sad ‘shoulda coulda woulda’ story is nothing but an excuse to the easy way out. Failure is the first step towards success. Without failure, success would not exist as it would not be distinguised as such. Without failure, every attempt, every action, every plan would be a success, because failure would simply not exist. And to be honest, not every attempt, action and plan is worth a success. Failure is necessary to learn, to grow, to be humble and greatful, to stay grounded and keep relativating. Seeing things in the right order and perspective clears the road to success. Practising and improving yourself continuously is the one purpose of failure.

Not being able to write, makes me able to write. The imaginary box, the golden cage, the iron gates and the amputated legs make me search myself thouroughly. It makes me investigate my mental skills, put them to the test and stretch their limits. The disability makes me ambitious. Ambitious to be able, be stable, be capable of doing what I want. Putting my creativity to product, injecting my inspiration into a project. Making dreams come to life, by keeping dreams alive inside. Reality begins and ends in the mind.

One can mentally kill or give birth to, neglect or nurse, destroy and destruct or enjoy and conduct any thing. And any thing mentally can be put to reality, through writing alone. Writing makes any idea, any concept, any lingering figment or thought a concrete thing. To read or learn, wonder about or teach. Language by itself, is the key to reality. And the writer…
The writer is the goldsmith that forged the key.

FearLess

Hello Reader,

I will try to explain why the name of my blog is:
Truth Beyond Mystery

As known to us all:
Nothing really is what it seems.

With me, this also is the case. I’ve always been looking past my true essence, escaping myself, knowing the world around me wasn’t ready for it.
Truth is, I wasn’t ready to realize who I am.
I use the word ‘realize’ with emphasis, because it means two things in this context:
In the first sense, I think I was for too long afraid to truly see and know myself.. In the second, I was unable to find the right path to make myself, to become who I ought to be.

This realization-process so to speak, has only recently begun its development. Finding my way out of this hiding place, trying to get used to the sunlight and fresh air.

I’m trying to get through the maze of mystery I build around me to cover myself. I’m trying to bring out my true essence and let it flourish and shine.
Recognize my being as whole and not fear any part of it.
This really is about becoming fearless in every aspect of life.

My thought of the day:
See things how they are and how they ought to be. Be fearless and passionate.

I’ve decided to blog..

Hello to all that might be reading this,

I’ve finally made the decision to write a blog. I’ve been a writer for a while now (I write poetry and short stories), but I never really gone public with any of my work.

I’ll be using this blog to post some of my latest or greatest pieces, or maybe sometimes just to let my thoughts flow on whatever subject is relevant at the time. Like a window to my mind.

I don’t know who will read this blog, if anyone.. But I think it’s important to share not only knowledge and information, but also thoughts and views on the world we live in. Maybe someday, someone will be able to use or value it. That’s the main reason why I finally decided to blog.

My thought of the day:
Openness is important to let ideas and opportunities flow in, and let less worthy memories drain out.

That’s it for now, I’ll be back soon with a more substantial follow up blog ; )

Love, Gita