Grey

Who needs books when there’s hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands of blogs out there to devour? I’ve been navigating the blog-o-spheres … flitting around … resting here or there for a minute or an hour (yup … I’m now well-versed in lurking) … and I’m simply in awe of the diversity, the poetic prose, the great writing I’ve found.

There are millions of flavours to be savoured (Baskin-Robbins eat your heart out!) … “eight million stories in the naked city” …

And in what can only be described as a “Wayne’s World” moment … I momentarily find myself “unworthy” …

("exsqueeze me?” … I am Canadian after all)

And that feeling just adds to the temporary writer’s block, journal block, blog-block I am experiencing (we apologize for the interruption in our service and we return you back to your regularly scheduled broadcast) …

How can someone who has something to say about virtually everything and nothing … not find anything to say at all when confronted with a clean white space in which to let it all out?

Damn those insecurities and perfectionist tendancies!!

But it goes beyond that, doesn’t that? Into the Grey… which envelopes me and cradles me in her arms that won’t let go … whispering to me, cajoling me to stay where I won’t have to deal with black or white … where I don’t have to “be” … where I can simply float around like a whisp changing shape at all times, changing my mind at will or at whim …

Not to say that existing in the Grey isn’t a great place to think and ponder and just play around with thoughts and things …

But it’s such a great hiding place that I can find myself never taking a stand … always arguing all the sides of the coins … never really taking shape … never being something however right or wrong or sane or insane or black or white that something is …

Grey seduces me, paralyzes me and makes stringing words in a sentence to solidify a thought something to be feared … she whispers “but what if you don’t believe that tomorrow?” … “won’t that make you a liar?” …

Grey convolutes my thoughts and adds layers and layers of analysis to make sure that I don’t break free from her grasp …

But break free, I must … as that’s why I’m here … that’s why most of us are here … to speak our minds, our truths, our lies, our “beings” … so that we can truly take shape as the souls we are in black and white …

… to stop hiding in the Grey or behind the labels of mother, father, sister, wife, brother, husband, employee, employer, lover, enemy, friend …

Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. ~Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905

By reaching beyond the Grey into Black and White … maybe I’ll find me (just where I left her at age 4 or 5) … and think my thoughts, live my life, find my passions and pen my own quotations.

There are 8 million stories in the naked city. And this is one of them …