I am extremely exhausted today, I managed to fall asleep without writing a post, finally waking up just now, at 2:20am, to write this. My brain is still half-asleep and my hands are weirdly typing around, it feels quite stupid to be writing this. But then, that has always been the deal with all my posts on days I was completely exhausted. Part of the experience is the weirdness I feel in doing this, the times when I feel like I cannot feel the tip of my fingers and every word comes out with an error that my laptop’s autocorrect finally corrects for me. Sometimes, I feel extremely demotivated by the comments of others, when they point out the pointlessness of my whole blog. People don’t really understand why this blog matters to me, why I put myself through a lot sometimes, just to write these posts.
I have stayed awake until stupid hours, I have fallen asleep and woken myself up at ungodly hours, prioritised this sometimes at the cost of doing my readings, I have written this blog through times of intense writers’ block that ruined my mental health, I have put myself through a lot to boast now of having done these many posts. But people don’t get it, they tried but they didn’t get it. There had been times when my blog had become somewhat of a joke, something to tease me about. Sometimes, I don’t really get it too, why I am writing this blog, what made me hold on so desperately to it, made me write every day for nearly 8 months. It is inexplicable, it is beautiful, it is painful, but it is still an experience very uniquely mine.
That is actually my definition for my whole life. Life inevitably ends up having heartbreak, having pain, having spellbinding beauty and grace, having inexplicable joy. Despite its many contradicting tendencies, everyone’s life is an experience, unique to their predicament, unique to them. It follows then, that it is useless to compare yourself with someone else, no matter how tempting that can be. This is with respect to everything, but especially with progress, because it is with respect to progress only that most comparisons take place. You perceive yourself as having done the same amount of work as someone else, with half the results, or (quite less frequently) twice the results. It is useless, petty even, this exercise. I want to learn to play an instrument, I am learning the keyboard by myself and I realised today that I had made some insane progress, more than what ‘others’ typically have. While that was extremely flattering for my ego, it was also harmful, to compare. There is a difference between being confident and being arrogantly confident, arrogance makes you someone who cannot accept it when things don’t go your way. And the last thing I want to be is arrogant (even though I am guilty of being arrogant many times).
Arrogance makes it difficult for you to learn anything at all. I want to learn to play the flute and I read that learning to play the flute was difficult, especially flutes like the Carnatic flute. That immediately threw me into doubt, I didn’t know if taking the course this semester was a good idea. The thing is, there is also a singing co-curricular that I am interested in, Carnatic vocals, and that is what is causing my confusion at the moment. On one hand, the opportunity to learn an instrument, one I have always wanted to learn, starting from absolute zero level, an instrument that is said to be difficult to learn to play. On the other hand, I have the opportunity to continue with a course I have already done before, starting from a comfortable level of singing, one I have always wanted to learn but can learn in other ways as of now, that I didn’t really find difficult. In the spirit of university, I am going to go with the Carnatic flute, and I am hoping I won’t regret my decision.
In fact, that is part of my arrogant self speaking, it cannot bear the thought of being horrible at something because it has drawn a comfortable dream in its head, of being at least somewhat good at the instrument. It perceives that it is good at singing, hence it has it as a plan B, if it fails miserably at learning the flute. But I hope I won’t leave the course even if I embarrass myself beyond repair in the first class, because it is important sometimes to accept crushing and humiliating defeat, for it helps you improve and to progress. In fact, that is something I have taken into mind now, especially after a few things that have happened, that are happening. With respect to my blog, despite these horrible timings, I am not ready to accept my defeat yet. In a way, I have accepted defeat by admitting to my flaws in keeping up with this blog, the problems I faced and continue to face. But it is not time to give up yet, I shall fight and push and progress because I have realised that there is no other way I know to live my uniquely defined life. That is adequate, I suppose?
And that’s my memory for the day.
The Memory Of A Storyteller 