The power of a blank page

Setting here staring at a blank page wondering where the words to fill it are going to come from. You look around the room and find the most uninspiring thing looking back at you and in that moment words start filling your head. You can’t even type enough to keep up with every word that flows in and wanting to come out and fill the white screen that was a moment ago, staring at you while you thought you were the one staring at the blank page.

It was indeed staring at you, waiting to be turned into a big chunk of meaningful worthy paper, that has a potential to change someone’s life or just have an ever lasting memory planted in them. But for some time before this you did not know if it was even worth sitting here and bothering anymore with working with words.

Yes working I said, creating anything from scratch with no previous reference to any other written word like it, is a full time activity that need to be practiced and nurtured all the time for it to bare more meaningful outcomes, not just for the end user but to you the creator of the work.

It can come as naturally as breathing to some and to others it need some training for it to be of use to the many or the few that will come across it and see its usefulness.

Its usefulness can come in many forms, be it informative, be it entertaining, amusing even educational. Someone might use it once and leave it there and never bother to mention it ever again in their life, someone else might come across the same piece and linger around it  and hold on to it for future reference. Someone might find it and just keep sharing it over and over again, with anyone they think might find it just as interesting as they did.

The same person can even go an extra mile and persuade them to also keep sharing it with others and on and on it will go and amazingly it might find its way back to you. In a way of a recommendations by someone in your circle or in that moment you were sitting next to some guy on your way home one evening after working on yet another blank page the whole day that day.

That whole day you were still wondering why you keep torturing yourself like this and in that moment when this stranger next to you hands you those bound pages with that gorgeous cover that says take me home. Your eyes open wider, your heart beats faster, you want to jump out of your body and scream hallelujah to the top of your voice, you even thought of kissing the poor guy.

He just made your day worth all the crumps you felt on your butt as you set there putting together another masterpiece. Another blank page that was once again staring at you like you were the worst criminal on the face of the earth. But look at that last blank page and what you did to it.

You listen to this guy tell you what it did to his life and why he thinks you look like you need it in that moment on your ride home. You smile, you think again of the first blank page and now you are staring down on those beautiful life changing pages you produced and it hit. You want more, you want to hear more people talk like this guy.

Your journey home that evening seemed to be too short as you arrive at your crossroads, where your ride now takes you on separate ways, and you wonder, should I have told the guy about staring at a blank page one time in your life, should I have told him how you know about the person who put together those words in these nicely bound pages? Or maybe you should have just said you had your own copy, but where will the fun be in that?

Where will the thrill of going on another staring contest with the blank page going to come from, so as to meet another similar stranger? Where were you going to hear all those life changing moments of that guy and your bound pages that were once just blank and frustrating?

Look at them now, they are driving you to continue the staring and the frustrations because at the end they all come together and ultimately please and amaze you, the creator of all things written.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like if you had closed that blank page, signed your life away to the comfort of the 9 to 5 madness of enslaving your creativeness to Mr X just because he gives you $x every 28-30 days.

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