The past and the present

I just came out of a meeting, or in fact more of an interview, feeling happy and energized. The topic was my blog, and my life as I describe it, as it’s quite a stark and (I try my best) honest account of my thoughts on love, life, passion and events taking place around me. Lately I have been getting quite some questions from friends and families where I draw the line. Would I publish anything on my blog? I honestly have to answer with both a Yes and a No. I don’t set out to hurt other people, and using my common sense I would not publish details that have been entrusted to me in confidence. Equally I don’t set out to paint a negative picture or slander those around me. But then there is the Yes…

When I started this blog I did it for 2 reasons. I wanted to document my life and the changes I was going through. Secondly and most importantly, I wanted to be honest, foremost to myself. I felt that this was something I had escaped and evaded for so long. Hiding behind a facade that was in fact an untrue representation of the real me. And what was the real me? Even that seemed obscured. It was easier continue the path I had been on for o long than return to find myself. A person I might not even know anymore.

In the beginning of my blog, my daily reports were about mundane life, but as time went by I started writing about my past, sometimes not a very pretty one. It became almost a cathartic ritual to go through those events, putting my thoughts on print. Some of those events go far back in time, even as early as childhood. Others are later from my adolescence and early twenties. There are moments they come to me, when I have the instant urge to write them down, to document them as a proof of their once existence.

It’s important to remember that those events, are events from the past. I cannot change my past. I can choose to ignore it, to forget it, to acknowledge it or to deal with it. I choose the latter. The acknowledgement being my very action. What should be said is that whatever happened in my past was because of my own decisions and actions. No one else’s. Still it doesn’t mean I am the same person now as I was then. But I refuse to give a glorified account of those times. I want my hurt, anger, frustration, suffering and sadness to be part of my writings as much as any happiness and joy would be. After all life is all of that…and so much more…