The Blank Page

I've been blogging for over a year now, and I'll admit- it's still intimidating.

I generally have no idea what to post about. I don't know what you want to read. Honestly, I don't even know what to post about right now, I'm kinda just making it up as I go, at this point.

Even when I do have an idea of what to write about, I'm not sure if I should write it. Sometimes I feel like I'm writing the same things over and over again. I thought about reviewing Ella Enchanted, but my last two posts were about fairy tales, and I was afraid you'd get tired of it. I thought about asking, once more, what you all out there would like to hear from me, but I haven't gotten an answer yet, so I'm guessing you're tired of that too.

Opening up a new post, seeing that blank page sitting in front of me, it's scary at times. It's strange to write knowing (hoping) someone will read it. It's strange to think that someone is probably forming an opinion of me as they read this. It's strange to think of comparing myself to bloggers who are much better than I am.

Maybe you all out there in cyberspace will understand this. It's the blank piece of paper when you start to take notes. The start of NaNoWriMo. The blank page when you begin writing a research paper. The empty journal you got from a relative for this holiday or that.

But I don't think you have to be writers to understand. Because a blank page isn't always literal. Sometimes it's the first day of a new school year. Or, better yet, the first day at a new school. Or, if you're past that, the first day at a new job. Maybe it's a first date. Maybe it's the first post on a new social media account.

Or maybe it's not a first. After all, each new blog post isn't my first. Maybe a blank page is just new. A new class. A new relationship of some kind. A new year, new month, new week. Even just a new day.

Even if it's not a chance to start over, entirely, it may be a chance to do something different. A chance to say something interesting. A chance to be someone you want to be.

And aren't we all at least a little bit afraid of that? Of a bad first impression? Of a bad impression in general, really? Or even just the sense of unknown something new brings?

For example, I don't know if this is your first time visiting my blog. I don't know if you hate this post or find it dull or boring or stupid. I don't know if you'll ever come back again after reading this, or any of my other posts. I can hope you don't hate me, but the only other thing I can do is just keep filling up the blank pages. That's all any of us can do.

"This is perhaps the greatest risk any of us will ever take: to be seen as we truly are." —Cinderella, 2015

A Bright Future?

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I'm sure every kid has thought about their answer to that question. Adults too, for that matter, since it doesn't seem to be all that common that people are actually doing the work they want to or dreamt about. But for us teens, who are on that precarious edge between our childhood dreams and our futures as adults, that decision is starting to look very real—and very intimidating.

As a kid, I don’t think my “when I grow up” dreams were all that conventional. Sure, princess was probably on the list, but I mostly remember wanting to be a veterinarian, author or service dog trainer.

 

I've since realized that I couldn't handle seeing animals sick or in pain well enough to be a vet, and that I couldn't handle giving away the dogs I’d trained once I got attached to them (which I inevitably would). I actually do still want to be an author, but at this point in time, it seems like that’ll be more of a side job than a career.

The next job that made it onto the list was an English teacher. I love writing and literature and helping people (especially helping make them smarter). But after a project at school in which we had to teach the class for a day, I’m no longer sure I can handle a certain few students who refuse to pay attention, ask stupid questions, then blame the teacher for why they can’t understand a simple concept.

My current dream job is actually to play in an orchestra professionally, the kind of orchestra that gets to record soundtracks for films and television shows. I’m only hoping I could actually make it to that level and not burn out on playing when I have to do it as a job.

But for all of us who want a career in an area as risky as the music business, we know that you usually have to have a backup plan. I suppose my backup plan would be to be a music educator, although my real “dream” backup would be to work with music therapy for special needs students.

But honestly, I don’t know what my future is going to be, and that’s okay. I know that I don’t actually have to have my entire life planned out, because things never go quite according to my plans. But if there is one thing, above all, that I aspire to be, it’s brilliant.

I adore the word “brilliant.” It means that something is so wonderful that it’s actually incandescent. It’s radiant. It’s illuminating.

And that is what I want to be. I want to be intelligent and clever and beautiful and inspirational and determined. I want to be a shining light in a dark world. I want to be a star—and I don’t mean celebrity. I mean the burning balls of gas in space that we all look up at on a clear night. Why? Because they get brighter when it gets darker. Darkness doesn't dim their light. They are brilliant. That's what I want to be.

What do you want to be? 

Thoughts and Roses

"Truths and roses have thorns about them." —Henry David Thoreau

As we all know, it's February 26th today, which means that Valentine'sDay was almost two weeks ago. That also means that all of the flowers that were given are probably now dried up and wilted. Which leads me to a question: why do we use flowers, which wilt and die in a few weeks, to represent love, which lasts forever?

I know what you might be thinking: "Love doesn't last forever! Just look at breakups and the divorce rate!"

Well, let me say something else. I don't believe that's really love. And love does last forever. Love is more than just passion and excitement and butterflies in your stomach and that tight feeling in your chest when you look at or think about the person you "love." It is all those things, certainly, but it is more. It's also a choice.

Love comes with ups and downs, just like anything else in life. Real love is when you choose to work it out and go through the downs together, rather than giving up. So why do so many people break up? Sometimes, it's just because they found it easier to give up than to work it out together. When you choose to commit to loving a person, it does last.

But flowers don't. So why do we use them to represent something that does? Well, several reasons, I guess.

For one thing, it's a bit traditional, now. I'm not really sure when, why, or how this tradition of giving cut flowers to one's significant other began, but it's certainly a tradition now.

Secondly, it's generally accepted that flowers are pretty. People like flowers.

Thirdly, on a deeper level, I think that they can represent how quickly life may go by; how delicate our lives can be; how each of us grow and bloom as individuals.

Roses are special flowers. They seem to be the favorites of poets and romantics and Valentine's Day gift-givers. But more importantly, they have thorns. And I think that that says something important about us as humans, that we would pick flowers that have painful thorns as our favorites. It shows that we recognize that bad things don't have to ruin the good.

What do you think about flowers and the meaning they hold? Let me know in comments!