As a blogger, I understand why the title of this post may seem misleading. Confusing? I don’t know which is the better word. I enjoy reading posts written by fellow bloggers from all corners of the world, all of whom have their own writing style, their own talents, their own themes of which they like to discuss. The more and more I read the words of other people, the more I come to the conclusion that I am not a writer. Words don’t come easily to the (virtual) page for me. My writing doesn’t have that effortless flow that some writers seem to be naturally gifted with. I am not a writer, I am a thinker. I write because I want to share my thoughts but the clarity of my writing never matches that of the thoughts that stimulate my mind. You see, what I’m writing now isn’t entirely what I’m thinking, because sometimes thoughts are not formed of words, they are feelings, images, sounds, impulses, which I do not have the ability to translate into a language that others can understand. I do, however, enjoy writing. It’s an outlet for my creative mind and a way for me to document my thoughts and feelings as I grow up. Maybe even the most well-written of bloggers still doubt their ability to write. Or maybe they don’t. Maybe I do have a style but I am just unable to recognise or identify it. It doesn’t bother me that I am not a writer, it’s just amusing that I’ve only just realised it. But I will continue writing nonetheless, and so should you even if you don’t feel as though you are a natural writer! Anyway, that’s enough musing for one day, back to revision for me. 🙂
You know, I’ve always admired the way that L can convey his thoughts and ideas by stringing words together in a way that makes them flow seamlessly across the page and become a work of art. They aren’t merged together in a higgledy-piggledy fashion like most of my rushed rambles and spools of thoughts turn out to be, instead it feels as if each word coexists with it’s neighbours in peace and is as deserving of it’s position as the next, and the next and the next.
When I did a poll on Twitter recently asking what my followers wanted to read on my blog, the winning option turned out to be “random thoughts”. Although polls are reletavely insignificant in the grand scheme of things, it has made me think about my own writing style. L’s writing is a joy to read and an inspiration, as are so many other bloggers within this community, but sometimes I wonder why it is that people read what I have to write here, in all it’s un-spectacularity.
I realised, after some thought, that it’s for the same reason that I enjoy reading other bloggers writing – because within words there is life.
Thibk about it – a machine couldn’t craft sentences with such emotion and meaning as a human being – the art of writing is truly something that can’t be lost to the “digital age”. Not least because there is an army of bloggers here prepared to fight for it.
Writing is something truly special and unique, a glance through a keyhole into the inner workings of someone’s mind, a fragment of a window into another person’s life. I find it fascinating how we all have or own ways of writing and conveying our thoughts, how there are infinite possibilities and meanings of the order that words are placed in. Typing out each word is like taken footsteps through a thick forest – you don’t always know which way you’re going to go or which twists your writing will take, but you know that each person traversing that forest will take unique combination of twist and turns and leave a unique trail of footsteps, such as each blogger types out a unique combination of words, leaving their very own digital footprints.
On reflection of that Twitter poll, I’m not sure if this is anything like what people wanted to read when they voted for “random thoughts” because such as the forest there were many ways I could have gone about writing this. This is just one of many infinite outcomes of my writing and another trail of footprints documented here. So I very much hope you enjoyed reading this random train of thoughts and phylosophical style that I have got out of habit of writing in, and I wish my fellow bloggers on their various wordful journeys a happy day.
Yesterday I visited my nan and something she said sparked off a whole chain of thoughts in my mind about emotions and interactions between our minds and our hearts and just about life in general (nan-spiration at it’s finest 👌). We were discussing ageing – or rather the feeling of ageing – when my nan mentioned that although her body feels old, her brain still feels active and young and just…not aged. Being a young person myself, it’s never something I really considered myself, the brain not ‘ageing’. Obviously, as the brain is part of our body it does age, but the mind itself ages differently.
Whilst our bodies age in years, and as time goes on, we can notice physical changes to our bodies capabilities, our brains age in intangible units: memories, knowledge, attitudes, opinions etc. Our minds are maps of our pasts, guides to our presents and stepping stones to our futures. What lies within cannot be determined by a numerical value of days, months or years, cannot be given an ‘age’.
This got me thinking about the relationship between the heart and the brain, not in a scientifically way as such, because my brain isn’t scientifically inclined, but more in a sort of philosophical way. About how the mind and the heart act equally and simultaneously as anchors to our roots and values and as sails, leading us off in different directions, wherever the heart, or mind, chooses.
Sometimes, when our hearts are full of emotion, of love and happiness, we become lighter than air, propelled along by this force like a sail billowing in the wind. Suddenly the horizon is in plain view; we know how to get where we want to be and have optimism for what lies ahead.
Other times, our feelings may be clouded with sadness and sorrow, knocking the wind out of us as it were and we become disorientated. When the wind drops, there is nothing to propel the boat along. We can’t see the way forward because the ‘now’ is obscuring our view. But, just as quickly as the wind drops, it can pick up again and we can get back on track with our lives. Emotions are very fluctuating, especially as a teen, and although this may seem a nuisance, it’s just part of life and it’s important to remember that just like the boat out at sea, our feelings are not trapped in one state and will change, just as the tides do.
Just as the heart can be described as the sail of our lives, leading us off down the various routes of life and carry us over calm and stormy seas, the mind can be seen as the anchor, tethering us to our core beliefs and values yet allowing us to venture safely into the realms of our hopes and dreams. Our minds hold all of our memories after all, everything we’ve ever done, thought and been. Like the archives of our lives, something we know, something true and something we can hold onto. Sometimes, our minds can not allow us to drift as much as we want to and restrict the power of our hearts too much, but that’s only because they remember the outcomes of all our actions and want to protect our hearts and emotions from suffering. But also, our minds can be the driving force behind our hearts. All our hopes and dreams, all the knowledge we learn everyday,can inspire us and propel us on through life.
So it can be said, that the heart and the mind work in conjunction with each other, like the anchor and the sail of a boat. They both contrast and compliment each other to guide us through our lives. Without each other, they would be left to flounder in the open sea and although they may sometimes disagree with each other, we’d really be lost without them.
(Disclaimer: I don’t really know anything about boats or sailing so might not be qualified to make a boat analogy but this is just for metaphorical purposes and the imaginative part of my brain was on a roll so I didn’t exactly want to stop it! Also I feel like my writing style has changed recently? Might be because I haven’t really written imaginatively in a while, but hopefully it’s interesting to read! I’m trying to get back into blogging again because I’ve really missed it and I don’t really have an explanation to why I’ve been writing so intermittently lately. Anyway thank you for reading ☺)
Do you ever just think of the world around you, of the people living, breathing, thriving, on the many continents of the earth and the sounds and sights and smells they are experiencing, and just be in awe of everything? Of how everything came to be and how much there is out there that you have not yet seen, or may never see? Or when you look at the sky and your gaze travels for miles and miles, seeing sky that stretches over other segments of the earth and adorns world’s viewed by different eyes, do you feel the rush to run and explore and see?
It’s the pull of adventure and exploration. It’s hard to put into words – I could write a thousand and still not do justice to it – but when you feel it, you feel it. It makes me feel alive and free, as if anything is possible. And it is – there’s a whole world of possibility waiting at our fingertips. This world is extraordinary.
And it’s waiting for us to explore it.
Today I went to my old scout hut – I haven’t been back since I left in September. I grew up there and have many amazing memories of the place and the adventures that scouting brought me, and however stupid it sounds, the very smell of the building and the feeling of the floor under my feet reignited all those years of memories and the yearning to explore. The urge to just
j u m p
And leap into the unknown was almost overpowering.
I know that wherever I travel on this earth,the spruit if adventure will always be with me. It’s part of me; it runs through my veins, drawing me to the world like a gravitational pull. And maybe I’ll never find somewhere where I belong, because I belong to the world and the world is my home, and the home of the billions of other people on my planet. I can’t be tethered to one place for too long, I need to fly and soar and explore. But that’s okay because no matter where I go or who I become or what I do in life, deep down, I’ll always be me.
This morning, the sun rose bright and early, blinding the sky with it’s rays as sharp as lemons yet as soft as buttercups. The sky…was blue. A faint sort of cold blueness that gradually grew darker and darker as you raised your eyes upwards to observe it’s vastness.
The sun did little to ease the crisp autumn air but the thought of the sun shining down was reminiscent of the summer days long gone and long to return. The sight of the sun’s glow falling deftly on the still, crystalline sea was e t h e r e a l.
The sun set was slow – reluctant – today. It lingered between the trees on the horizon for what felt like eternity, casting a dappled glow on the land and creating a beautiful patchwork of auburn warmth as it weaved itself between fallen leaves.
When it finally let go, and drifted down below the tree line, a band of yellow-ish green clouds remained, making the point where the sky met the sea more visible than ever. The sea was still calm, but the starry curtain that was beginning to drape itself over the last remaining traces of the sun was as alive with light and beauty as ever. It was truly s t e l l a r.
(Description of the sky today as observed by me on my way to and from college on the bus).
Earlier I read this post by Michelle where she shared with us some of her old writing and it inspired me to show you guys (if anyone actually cares/reads this) a story which I wrote when I was about 6 or 7 that I found a few weeks ago. And guess what? IT IS A HARRY POTTER FANFICTION (#potterhead4lyf right here). It is a 6/7 year olds interpretation of the 7th HP book so as you can guess it will be absolutely awful but I will type it up for you anyway. The spelling and grammar is ridiculous but I will type it EXACTLY as it is written just because it’s funny. I’ll correct it in a different colour so it actually make sense.
So, here we go.
(Disclaimer: evidently I am NOT the wonderful J K Rowling so these character’s, setting’s and Harry Potter ‘terms’ (e.g Quidditch) do not belong to me.)
Chapter 1: Bad News.
Harry was on his way to Hogwarts. There was a bang on the door. It was Hermione and Ron. Soon they got there (and) Dumbledore called everyone for a(n) inportent (important) meeting. He said there was to be a terable (terrible) storm. After everyone went back to there dormitries (dormitories).
The next stormy morning there was a large hole in a wall. When they were ready they went to have defence against the dark arts. Later Harry and Ron found that Hermione wasn’t there. Professor Morgonagle (McGonagall – at least I tried) said a brick had fell on Hermione’s head.
“How did it fall on her head(?)” said Ron. Just then Draco Malfoy inturupted (interrupted) He said “you’ll never see (your) friend again Potter”.
It was 10 o’clock and at last the(y) found Hermione in hospital with another case of being petrefied (petrified). The next morning Ron and Harry found themself (themselves I think) lying on the hospital floor.
“Wake up Ron” said Harry. They went to the libary (library) to look for the right spell to make Hermione better. Soon they found it. It went like this.
Frozen student unfreeze, frozen student sneze (sneeze – oh God this spell is literally the worst thing ever).
But the person needs to drink something. Tearing out the page as they ran to find the nurse (I don’t even know what this sentence is supposed to say). She was busy dealing with another injurere (injury). This time she was dealing with 5 children they were Malfoy, Crab (Crabbe), Goil (Goyle), Nevel (NevILLE) Longbottom and Colin Crevely (Creevey). All with the case of being petrefied (petrified). There was (were) onley (only) 4000 children left. (My God Hogwarts is A LOT bigger than I though it was!)
Soon they found out that it was the whomping willow knocking a brick down one by one. Later Dumbledore called for another inportent (important) meeting but this time only 3094 children came (I don’t even know if this math is correct…) Something very strange was happening. (Clearly…)
Soon there was another inturuption (interruption) this time by Ron. He said “what about (the) 13 children in hospital”.
“They will stay in there until we find a spell” said Dumbledore tremblind (trembling? trembled? who knows…) with fear. “Now everyone go back to your dormitries (dormitories).”
Soon they were fast asleep asept (except) from Harry. He was thinking if he should give Dumbledore the spell. But then he thourt (thought) Dumbledore would be more happy (??????? why???????). Soon he was asleep to(o).
Chapter 2: My hero.
The next sunny damp stormy morning (what the???) there was a stranger sleeping under Harry’s bed. This person had the poition to make the 13 now became 16 children in hospital (better? and where did the other three children come from…) . The(n) quickly snatching the liquid from him and grabbing the spell, Harry dashed off to find Dumbledore.
He found Dumbledore mopeing (moping) in his office. He said “it’s getting worse”.
Harry quickly said “don’t worry” and gave him the spell and the liquid (oh how reassuring…). Then Harry left his office and hurried to find Ron. Harry whispered to a tiered (tired) Ron “I did it”.
Hermione came in still half asleep.
“Hermione” Ron and Harry said together.
“Dumbledore said the spell”.
“What about the others?” said Harry.
“They will have to go home with the rest of us”.
“Beacause (BECAUSE – BIG ELEPHANTS CAN ALWAYS USE SMALL EXITS. Did I seriously not pay attention in school back then or something??) half of the school has been knocked down already”.
So the next day everyone packed up and set off on the long journey home (what a shame!). Soon Harry arivived (arrived) at his aunt and uncles house. The next day Harry spoted (spotted) an artical (article) in the papper (paper). It said A Ministriy of Magic School has been knocked down. Harry quickly teared (tore) out the artical (article) packed his bags, found his uncles work kit and ran out the door. He caught the 10 o’clock night bus to Hogwarts.
When he got there he saw nothing asept (except) a pile of bricks (yeah because Hogwarts was TOTALLY raised to the ground by ONE whomping willow…) and a huge willow tree. Makeing (making) a pile like a small table he rote a note to his friends. They soon came to help. Soon they got tired and fell asleep on the soil.
The next sunny morning they got to work building around the willow (why??? just why?? it was the bloody whomping willow that knocked down the school in the first place – why would you build the new school AROUND it?). Hermione started carveing (carving) the trunk into stairs meanwhile Harry and Ron built the walls so high that they had to use a ladder (of course they did…). Soon it was finished but Ron Harry and Hermione paddled off in a little boat soon they found everything they needed (ok den… thought the school was finished but apparently not). Then they placed every they (thing NOT they) back niceley (nicely) and called everyone to come back to Hogwarts.
Chapter 3: New Hogwarts.
Everyone loved the new Hogwarts. It was brilliant. They went to the hall. Owl post came for everyone. Ron got a card and a new book from Wizzard World (idek). Harry got a small pot marked H.P. with a Wizzard charm with H.P. on it and inside a picture of his mum and dad (again idek what I was on about here). Hermione got a new wand like many others. Then everyone began to eat. It was late but everyone was tired (??? I made no sense back then…).
Defence against the dark arts was first in the morning. Snape said there was to be a quidetch (quidditch) match. So Harry got ready and shooted (shot) straight up in (to) the gloomy sky. Above Harry’s head futturing (fluttering) around was the golden snitch. As Harry clutched on to the snitch he sudenley (suddenly) foud (found) himself falling to the ground. Just then Malfoy pushed Harry in to the sand and Malfoy was falling to(o). Next day they were both better (ummmmm…..unrealistic or WHAT??).
Later Dumbledore called for another inportent (important) meeting )he really likes his ‘important meetings’, doesn’t he?).
“Thank you Harry for makeing (making) a new school” said Dumbledore. “73 points for Griffendore (Gryffindor) and for everyone.”
AND IT ENDS. JUST LIKE THAT.
So, clearly my writing skills back then were pretty damn awful but at least my Harry Potter knowledge was somewhat up to scratch. I mean, I surprisingly managed to spell most of the characters names right.
In case you were wondering, this is what the front cover of my book looked like:
Think of all the ink I wasted whilst colouring that in…
And this is how terrible my handwriting was way back then:
So re-reading my first ever Harry potter fanfic has been…amusing to say the least. I think we have all now established that I have been a Potterhead for a very long time now
and that I was and probably still am really quite a strange child and had probably the oddest childhood ever.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed something a bit different. I tired to take a good photo of my neighbors tree that I used to think was a whomping willow but I felt slightly awkward trying to inconspicuously take a photo of their garden so the featured photo is just other random trees, sorry!
Thanks for reading.