My Promise Of Becoming A Better Person…

Last year when I was intrinsically inspired by the resolutions of my blogger friends, I had made just one promise and that was ‘to become a better person.’

This one thought ushered in a host of memories, which revealed to me my true self and I felt the need to record some of my struggles with the enhancement of my personality.

It was not an easy endeavor as many of those memories were fraught with fears of facing monsters lurking around me but the way I have dealt with them single-handedly, removing all the cobwebs in which I was trapped has convinced me that there is always a light shimmering at the horizon.

As the curtain was coming down on another year, I got the opportunity to introspect… how much could I come up to my expectations?

The definition of being a ‘Better Person’ could be different for all of us but I had set 6 benchmarks, which I have been working on.

I am delighted to tell you that a single resolution has helped me immensely in putting together my observations and experiences in the form of a book, which I am ready to release. Some of the chapters are the same that I have shared with you but this book is for all those readers who don’t come regularly to read my blog and even those who would like to ascend the steps of personality building, one by one.

My conviction is that self-help is the best kind of help as teachers and therapists can only show us the way. We have to move ahead with our own steps, if we stumble and stagger, we have to rise with our own efforts in whatever journey we undertake.

When I self-published my first book, I was not a blogger and was unaware of the challenges of wading into the realms of publication. Ignorance is bliss and so I didn’t even realize where I could have floundered!

Then I discovered blogging! The happiness of sharing my emotions and reflections was enough to keep me afloat! On the way I met some wonderful blogger friends who guided and supported me with their wisdom and expertise. Some even reviewed my books.

My thoughts go back to some of my oldest blogger friends Vishnu, Harleena Singh, Marie, Lisa and Somali, who stood by a newbie to offer valuable advice and reviews. Alka went a step further by uploading one of my books’ cover on her blog to help me in its promotion. Christy invited me to tea at her blog to talk about my poetry. Dear friends, I take this opportunity to express my gratitude once again and look forward to your support this time again.

I have many lovely author cum blogger friends whom I met recently and would request all of them to be a part of this endeavor.

Please spread the word. Share this post at your blogs and all the social networks please.

Give a shout out to your friends who would like to become a better person.

My book is now live at Amazon.com

You can click on the link to look inside or grab your copy.

Thank you for reading this. I look forward to your love and support.

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Balroop Singh.

 

Dealing With My Dearest Buddy And Reprimanding Bully

The hangover of travel still lurks around me though I am back on my favorite couch, trying to wake up my creative critter, which seems to have gone into hibernation. Having failed to fuel my imagination for almost a month, I know I can’t pass on the responsibility to my dearest muse who responds spontaneously to stimulus.

When I struggle with self-doubt, Maya Angelou’s words reverberate around me
“You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”
Lately I have been spending too much time with the antagonists of creativity, seeking pleasure in the festivities, lounging around with family and friends and gathering some golden moments of delight.

‘Do you want to stay in your self-obsessed boundaries?’ I ask my creative buddy.
She just looks at me irately and closes her eyes.

‘You are my only love, my solace, my dearest confidant.’
She eyed me with a sneering satisfaction and dug deeper into its acrimonious abode.

‘Please come and sit with me, I have some interesting escapades to share.’
‘You have been selfish and unkind. You got mired in self-doubt. You are a procrastinator.’

I was taken aback but I knew she was right. I nodded a little, refusing to agree whole-heartedly with the indictments, trying to keep my vacillating valor intact within me.

‘Your complacency irritates me, your attitude is so annoying and your priorities are paradoxical. I have failed to understand you.’

‘But I love you. You are my only island of amity and tranquility.’
‘Love is not enough. You have to be consistent. You must know that love means ‘loyalty’, ‘obeisance’, ‘venerating’ and ‘eloquence.’

‘If you are not loyal to your words, they become elusive. If you lack obeisance, reflections fritter away. If you don’t revere your ephemeral ideas, they lack coherence and if you are not eloquent enough, your touch with your subtle self becomes feeble.’

The daunting discourse didn’t die down till I agreed to hold the hands of my reprimanding bully, nodding to all her diktats and flying away with her to cross the boundaries of horizon.

She reminded me…‘You have to be intrepid to jump off the cliffs, quit rational thinking and develop wings whenever wanted. You have to keep the fire burning and redefine your priorities.’

I didn’t like her preconditions because family has always been my priority. I have never looked beyond my practical responsibilities but I agreed, as I wanted to win her confidence. I know she is just cross. I know she too knows me well. She appreciates space but when it starts creating wedges, she possesses the potential to bridge the breach.

I sincerely hope I would come up to the expectations of my dearest buddy.

Have you ever been admonished by your creative self?
Thank you for reading this amalgamation of emotions. Please add your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

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Balroop Singh.

Confessions Of A Writer Who Loses Track And Feels Disillusioned…

I have been trying to write a book, trying to compress most of the experiences of my life, honestly into it but each time I go back to those pages, some kind of darkness descends on me.

I get wedged in those dark corridors. I feel stifled.

My thoughts veer into those unknown crevices where I have buried many setbacks, a thousand emotions and disappointments, which have been struggling to wriggle out.

I have endeavored to approach it from a different angle, interspersing it with fictional characters and situations to camouflage the darker moments but each time I have returned disillusioned.

My progress has been dismally slow; I lose the inspiration just after writing a few words. Meanwhile I have completed two books. My poetry flows most naturally and this has been a good reminder that I lack the will to come out of those long, narrow alleys, face sunshine and move forward.

The hope

But sunshine has been my lifeline, my motivation, and my most trusted friend who has always provided me the impetus to welcome positive thoughts.

I have been pondering who is the real culprit and why this unknown entity lurks around me…

There is one main character with ghost like eyes, prying at me all the time, holding my hands, scaring the life out of my fingers, paralyzing them, shooting at my thoughts, stealing all the ideas, showing daggers and making me quit.

Each time its approach is different. Sometimes it visits me right in the morning, even before I open my journal, exerting a strange power over my actions, distracting me into some meaningless activities.

The vice like grip of this monster holds all the words that seem to drift away, leaving me powerless.

There is always a villain, I reassure myself. I have the liberty to portray this villain in the darkest shades.

Devilish influence

Whenever I move ahead with this argument in my mind, I can race through some more pages, which reveal many more fiends, glowering at me through the words.

I refuse to give up. Nothing can bog me down. I continue to write. A day will come when all these devilish characters would stand exposed.

They will lose their hold on me one day.

Do I regret having buried them? Probably that was the only solution at that time.

Probably I didn’t have the maturity to handle their power at that juncture.

Now I can’t let them keep visiting me. Now I need to extort them out of my life. Words are more powerful than the sharpest weapons.

So I have been using just words.

“If I waited till I felt like writing, I’d never write at all.” – Anne Tyler

Thank you for reading these random thoughts. I know you too have some. Please share them.

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Balroop Singh.

 

 

How Writing Can Help Us In Dealing With Emotions

Writing is one of the most amazing gifts that we receive with life. When a child learns to put the alphabets together, when he starts using those words into small, broken sentences, he hardly knows that he is learning the best of all the ingenuities available to human beings to share their emotions.

Those who get an opportunity to develop and enhance this skill at an early age feel blessed when they can use this as to tool to calm down their emotions.

Have you heard about writing therapy? My friend Kim of My Inner Chick has been using it since the untimely, unfortunate demise of her sister Kay, who was murdered by her own husband.

I too have experienced its therapeutic appeal!

Have you felt the cathartic and liberating effect of writing?

Whether it is expressive writing, writing for pleasure or creative writing – it is the best outlet for those emotions, which are difficult to express and lurk deeper within the inner recesses of our heart.

As a student I had read what Aldous Huxley said about writing: “Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly — they’ll go through anything.”

I have often deliberated about this bizarre analogy…X-rays always conjured up darkness before my eyes but I could understand the import of his words only now…when I can discern what role darkness plays in our lives…how it props us up to look for light, almost impels us towards it…how it raises our hopes!

Writing makes us happier:

The elation of recording our feelings is so fulfilling, so heartwarming that many people develop the habit of writing a journal. We can create our own world of fantasy, in which all the characters are mere puppets in our hands. We can unlock all the doors, as the keys are in our possession…what a wonderful feeling!

Writing inspires:

Inspiration comes in many shapes and forms and writing is surely one of them. It gives an impetus to our desires. When we write down about our aspirations and goals, our dreams begin to take shape. We start feeling that we are on the chosen track and through writing; we can plan as well as take stock of our achievements, quite frequently.

Writing organizes our thoughts:

It gives clarity to those ideas, which are confusing or blurred. It calms us down and leads us to self-discovery. With practice, words become our best friends, teach us tolerance, control our anger and rein our negative thoughts. They slash those emotional walls down, which ward off our progress towards becoming a better person.

Writing keeps us busy:

Like reading, writing keeps our mind occupied and takes us to the next level…of honing our skills, of embellishing our imagination, of drowning all the anxieties and loneliness in the ocean of words. The pleasure of this activity can only be felt when we start sharing our solitude with the words. It keeps our mind healthy and active.

 Writing heals:

All those hurts, the agony, the emotional throttling gets assuaged when we pour it out, when we weave a wreath of words to be placed on those buried memories, when we share it in the form of a poem, a story or that precious book we write. Healing starts the moment we pen down our thoughts. We feel relieved. We learn to forgive. We rise above human imperfections.

“I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.” –Anne Frank

Writing sets us free:

Writing has given me wings. I can fly anytime, anywhere. I often perch on the branches of my favorite trees and can communicate with everyone without any reticence. All those who sit far away, in the comfort of their homes can hear me as I let my voice merge into the clouds that float around, merrily.

Have you experienced the power of writing? How has it affected you?

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Balroop Singh.