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Life happens.

Everybody knows that right… A lot of good things happen: promotions, births, lottery wins. Bad things happen too. I’m talking injuries, loss of property, death of a loved one. And these things tend to shape the people we become. To be more precise, the way these things affect us and the way we respond to them, shape the people we become. Why am I going all Plato on you? Because I’m trying to clarify to you (okay, who I’m I kidding: To Myself) why I haven’t written for awhile.

Life happened.

But duuh, life is supposed to happen. Life happens to everyone. So why exactly do I not write as much as I used to?

I let life happen to me.

You know how lotsa good things would happen to you, making you all happy and full of energy, later on one bad thing happens then Bam! everything starts feeling terrible and unbearable? That one bad thing that shakes the balance of your existence. The energy gets sucked right out of you and nothing is exciting anymore. You get to be happy but only for small snippets of your life, then the black-hole feeling swallows you up again. I’m not talking about depression, no. I’m talking about losing yourself, losing part of your soul, and losing sight of your goals. I’m talking about not participating in exciting things anymore because what’s the point, that happy feeling is going to be taken away eventually anyway. Maybe in a few days, maybe in a number of weeks, and if you’re lucky the universe will give you months.

No, I didn’t have writer’s block.

I never have writer’s block. No I’m serious, I’m not even bragging about it. In my world, that phrase does not exist. I can write something about anything. My mind is in a constant state of interpreting things and creating scenarios. Now whether I’m impressed with what I wrote or not, is another issue…

I just didn’t want to write.

And I love writing. Writing is my golden. [golden (n): anything that makes you so happy your insides cry of pure joy, and it feels like you’re on drugs but better because it’s a natural high]. However, I didn’t want my negative energy to affect my golden. Taint it. Turn my writing dark and redefine it. So I turned into this person who enjoyed her happy moments to the fullest; I yearned for them, and held tightly every single one of those instants to heart. I didn’t want to share them. I didn’t want to be distracted from them. The idea of writing became a distraction. Then the sad moments would crop up and I would blame my negative energy again.

I forgot why I write.

That’s the worst thing that can ever happen to a writer. Losing your motivation to write. It’s even worse than the mysterious writer’s block. I forgot how happy and fulfilling I felt when I write. I forgot how excited I get when I click on that ‘Post’ button on my blog. How I get to understand myself more every time I put my thoughts on paper. In this case, on an electronic device that carries out arithmetic and logical operations, and can store information. My writing is like a road-map that helps me find my way. Helps me discover new things. I also forgot how I challenge myself whenever I write something. All the stories I get to write, the thoughts I get to explore, and the beliefs I need to share. I forgot how I love and appreciate myself more every time I create something new. Something that no one else has (well, at least not in the same exact way I did). I forgot how my words affect the world around me. I forgot that life I touched. Or how I’d get into these arguments with people over the content of my blog posts. I forgot about my readers. How my friends and even people I don’t really know faithfully read my posts and comment about it. I forgot all the ‘I feel the same way’, ‘I’m glad I read that’, ‘that’s new’, ‘I totally enjoyed that’ and even the ‘I absolutely do not agree with all that’ opinions!

Even bad things come to an end.

Well, as I was going on with life, in the middle of my in-denial despair, I came across one of Chanyado’s posts. Forty minutes later, I was still reading her blog. There’s a way this lady tells a story. The way she uses words to describe situations is nothing short of amazing. She has this thing where she puts together a bunch of ordinary words and turns them into phrases that come alive. Yes, you can feel them bounce off the page and hit you over and over until you can’t help but react. Sentences that have so much soul, and which bring out all sorts of emotions out of a reader. She reminded me the reasons why I write. She unintentionally scolded me for denying myself that part of me that brings me joy. My golden. And I got to learn that sometimes, I just have to write what I can, to get to write what I want or need.

Life happens to us.

That should never stop you from doing something that makes you happy, things that you really love. Especially if it’s something that makes even the tiniest difference in your life or other people’s. You enjoy swimming? Go ahead and splash around despite the losses you incurred from your shares. You love your job? The endless traffic and your mean supervisor aren’t good enough reasons to not do it, and do it well. You like baking? Well don’t let that bad break-up stop you. Sometimes the one thing you’re running from is the one thing that can bring light into the darkness we sometimes find ourselves in. Plus anyway, life will forever be happening. That is what it does. Life happens.

Nevertheless, it hasn’t been all that bad a thing. Yeah I couldn’t find it in me to write; but for this same reason, I got to do other super-appealing things. I read more. Okay maybe this isn’t new, but I got to read books I wouldn’t read on a normal Zainab’s day. Enlightening and intriguing stories, bits of information that got me holding my breath and exhaling it out with wonder. I tried out new recipes (not all of them turned out great), I learnt a number of tunes on the piano (I had to learn to play something else other than the recorder in high school!), I watched (and enjoyed) movies I would never have watched, I spent more time with each one of my best friends, I made time for that side of my family that I hardly ever spent time with, I made a new friend, I drew, I took walks. Oh yeah, and I threw a big part of myself into my work. Did I mention I started a new job earlier this year; and I love it! But that’s a story for another day. All I’m saying is, it’s about time I got back to writing, because I got A LOTTA things I need to say. And this time, not even a faulty Wi-Fi connection can keep me away.

[On that note, if you are reading this, and you haven’t followed my blog yet, just Go ahead and Click that Follow button up there. You might want to stick around for more of this]

Random Fact: Did you know that Plato was the student of Socrates, and the teacher of Aristotle?? I know, MindBlowing!


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