Nobody is ever grateful for a window. We only notice what’s wrong with them, and even then it isn’t about the window itself.
When we can’t see through them we notice the dirt.
When it’s broken we notice the damage.
When there’s a draught we notice the gap.
When they’ve been cleaned or repaired we only notice that we can see the object behind the window better than we could before.
If windows weren’t there we could feel exposed, cold, insecure
They are invisible to us.
And it got me thinking that life can be like that. We spend our whole lives not seeing life for what it is; we busy ourselves, we entertain ourselves, we distract ourselves. And life is there in the background being taken for granted.
We don’t notice its beauty. We don’t notice its stillness. We don’t notice the silence.
These are all there in the background, and without them we don’t have the contrast to compare our lives to.
It seems like we want to avoid ‘negative’ feelings. Anger, envy, boredom, distrust, hatred. We distract ourselves. We avoid situations. We think positive thoughts.
And it got me thinking that on average half of life can be negative, and because we think something is negative we don’t want to feel it or experience it.
A friend of mine mentioned a quote on the wall of an Indian military training camp that his father used to train at:
“Do the thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain.”
And the thing we fear is the ‘negative’ feeling we get from an action that we take or situation we put ourselves in.
People often say hate is the opposite of love, but actually I believe fear is the opposite. On the scale from love to fear we begin with gratitude, joy, peace (love) and make our way through contentment and boredom (neutral) down through envy, anger and hatred (fear). (Other emotions are available).
So the thing you fear is the emotion of a fear-based feelings. When we accept and sit with those feelings we can realise that it’s just a feeling and it’s not going to hurt us, at which point the death of fear is certain.
It’s funny. I’ve got these ideas of what I want to talk about but none seem to be resonating with me at the moment. Some I’ve already written a blog post about (but not published yet) but most are just in idea form.
The mantra is, “Just start!”. So, that’s what I’m doing. Type, and see what happens.
[Deep down my anxiety is building as I’m thinking about what you’re going to be thinking about me just wittering on, and already this is happening in my second post. But that’s half the challenge, isn’t it? To write, and if people don’t like it they’ll stop reading. And that’s okay.]
So what happens next? Do I need to finish with something that draws you in to the next thrilling installment? Or is it just an underwhelming squib of a post?
I wasn’t expecting the dip to come so soon.
I suppose at the very least I’ve got a story for a later post about how badly my blog started.
It’s time. It’s time to push through my comfort zone and take a risk. To be prepared to fail (or succeed) and be okay with that.
I’m going to write a blog. The whole point is that it is public, and I’m going to make my thoughts and opinions public. And, I will expose myself to the comments of others, both positive and negative, and be okay with that. To not let what others think be an obstacle to writing and publishing something that I believe in.
I am setting a public target to publish something every week for a year and holding myself accountable even if sometimes it’s not as perfect as I want it to be.
I’m sure there will be trials and tribulations (of which I will write); the honeymoon period of this new intention with lots of ideas for posts, and then the inevitable writer’s block and desperate need not to publish something because it’s a bit rubbish or half-cocked.
Thank you for joining me on this journey. I appreciate the company. Or, ultimately, if no-one is reading this then it wont matter that I haven’t finished this sentenc