The magic of creation

On September 23rd 2016,there was a girl who was lost.Who thought there was no purpose to her life.Her present was troubled and confused.Her future looked bleak and uncertain.

It was a Friday afternoon.One of the most depressing in her life.Everywhere she looked, all she could see was problems.There was nothing to look forward to.She sat at her window as always.With her poor tortured laptop for company.The afternoon turned into evening and she still didn't have answers to any of her questions.

She missed her diary.Why didn't I bring it here! she cursed for the millionth time.And then,the first inkling of an idea crept into her mind.

What if I start a blog?A place where I can write anything and everything I want to.

What if someone reads it?You're thinking of putting it up on the net for God's sake.

True.I can't bear the thought of it.It's vulnerability to a whole other level.I would be giving my readers the power to see into my soul.The deepest part of me.It's scary as hell.

Yes,this is a bad idea.

But I really need to write.Need to.Maybe I won't send the link to anyone.And since I never use my actual name while writing,noone can find me.

You say that now.But at one point,you will send it to people.And then they will send it to other people.How do you feel about that?

Criticism is all very well when what you do doesn't mean a thing;but when you put your heart and soul out there,it can hurt like hell.I don't know if I'm strong enough to handle it.

But here's the thing.I need to write.I can't live without.I'm creating a blog.If I feel like I can send the links to people,I will.Maybe that will take time.Maybe it will hurt.But so does everything in life.It's a part of growing up.Getting wiser.Accepting.

A different kind of death,but death all the same!

So the inner monologue went on.Finally,with a lot of trepidation she created the blog.

And wrote her first ever blog post.

The first tiny green shoot that peeks out of the ground.So scared,so vulnerable.Yet,ever so hopeful.

The minute she read it,she was convinced that it sucked.She almost decided to delete the blog,but she needed a platform to write.She decided to sleep over it.The morning of 24th,she felt a little less vulnerable.A little more hopeful.A tiny bit more courageous.

She sent out the link to a close friend feeling curious and anxious at the same time.The reply was encouraging.

The first drops of water that the clouds sprayed on the shoot while it watched in awe.Drank them in to feel alive.

Cautiously,she sent the link out to a few more people to be sure that her writing was good.More of the same.

The tiny plant put out it's roots a more firmly into the ground.It knew this was where it belonged.

Soon,writing became a part of life.Through happiness and sadness.Through boredom and gloom.Her blog was her haven.

The sapling grew sturdier.Just as the leaves spread out on the surface,so did the roots.Deep within.The day was a glorious dance with the sun.The night with the wind.

There were times when life got scary.Tumultuous.Turbulent.But by then,writing was her anchor.It was strong enough to hold her.

The plant weathered its first storm.Lightning struck huge tress around,felling them.The thunder made its branches quiver.Rain lashed out so hard that it almost broke its fragile branches.The roots--the plant held onto them tightly hoping the storm would end. The next morning,the sun dawned on the wreckage.The tiny branches had broken,leaves scattered around like martyrs.The plant looked dead on the outside.Yet,its roots breathed life.Stronger for the next storm,and still young enough to live cheerfully.The stem had its first shade of brown.It was no longer a sapling.A little less naive,a little less foolish.

Soon,the vulnerability was gone.She let anyone into her blog.Even the posts with personal entries were read by many people.It didn't matter any longer.She was strong enough.Catharsis does that to you.

The plant no longer needed watering.The roots had plunged deep into the earth to find an arterial river.The water was sufficient for all time.Till eternity.

She tried many genres.Posts of different kinds.The ones that were close to her heart were always ones that made someone happy.For what else is the purpose of life? All forms of art ultimately culminate in emotion.In resonance.If another human being can read what I've written and feel at least some of what I try to convey,then I've done justice to the world.

Flowering.The best part there was.To take from the sun,the wind,the water,the earth and create something as amazing as a flower.To give back to all of nature.In all its perfection,in all its glory.The pure magic of creation.

Here I am,Dear Reader.It's been six months.Sixty odd posts.A roller-coaster ride!

This blog is my very own plant.I nurture it with all my heart and soul.I hope that it will grow into something I can cherish.Something I can be proud of. 

A powerful,strong tree that stretches out its arms to the sky.Standing tall and yet bending with the breeze.Home to all who seek its shelter and protection.A source of cheer and happiness to everyone associated.A tree whose gnarled boughs speak of scars.Of wisdom.Of Life:)

You might be someone who's been reading this blog since its infancy.Or you might have stumbled upon it just today.Regardless of that,I welcome you.I wish you have as good a time reading as I do when I'm writing.If you like what you read,do let me know.It makes my day! :)

Happy half-year birthday,my blog.

P.S:I love visual imagery:D