There comes a time (every so often) in our lives when what we started with so much enthusiasm and good intent peters to a lustless meandering phase. This is the time when the number of false starts far outnumbers the journeys completed. This is when every spark of an idea seems like a flicker thats already set to fade before you can even pen it down. This is when you feel that everything that can be said, feels like already said. This is that phase in a blogger’s life when the block in the mind threatens to choke the very life.
The most tempting solution (as it is to every seemingly insurmountable problem in life) is escape. Just like suicide seems a grand way to exit in life, an epitaph to a blog is always a temptation to leave when the going is good. A last hurrah that leaves the world stunned and reminds them more powerfully than ever that you exist. Or maybe the fans will scream for a comeback. And that can herald a glorious comeback. Maybe. But that doesn’t seem too plausible, coz, a resurrection of a writer is just a lot of hard-work all over again.
But then every destruction can herald a new era of creation. A pathway to an after life, maybe a newer blog that begins a new life afresh when midlife threatens to mire the current one in a sea of pointless boredom. A new blog can peek out of the ashes of the old. But this may also turn out to be a sea of options in which you might just drown. Choice can be even ,more paralysing than boredom and inertia. And the choice of determining a new life as a response to killing off the old is never the right way to go about it. Birth happens after sex, not after death.
So there is no solution to this crisis except to crawl back to life. There is no escape.
The only choice is to exist forever in a suspended state between life and death. Now, come to think of it, that seems like such a cool place. It’s that place that offers you a view of both what came before and what lies ahead. It’s that place where time ceases to flow. It’s that place that offers scope for endless contemplation. It’s like floating on water on a Sunday afternoon. Thinking of the week that went past. And knowing that come Monday, new blossoms flower. Yes, flowers bloom even on a Monday.
Just being aware of the nature of time, and the curious state of consciousness that forces a feverish mind to just slow down and think. And feel.
SO there – it’s done now. The resurrection of the blog.
The return to life.
You can’t always predict the form of new life.
But then it’s just good to know it’s alive and kicking.